


seeking respite (in your arms)

by sinspiration



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (there is eventual sex though), Aftercare, Allura (Voltron) Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BABBY sub Keith, BDSM exploration, Dom Shiro (Voltron), Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, Impact Play, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Kink, Non-Sexual Submission, OMC dom, Rope Bondage, Safeword Use, Service Submission, Service Top, Service Top Shiro (Voltron), Sub Keith (Voltron), Subdrop, The War Is Over but there's no S8, minor Keith (Voltron)/original male character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28540092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinspiration/pseuds/sinspiration
Summary: The war ends, and with it so many stressors and pains and agonies.And Keith stops sleeping.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 257
Kudos: 447





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by Jimenko! and it's going to be a Ride :)
> 
> (ps, they're both idiots.)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Keith never used to have problems sleeping. 

Staying asleep was always an issue, sure, especially what with all his hair triggers, coupled with the fact that the last several years of his life sometimes required him being awake and ready between one moments’ breath and the next.

But falling asleep had never been an issue. He’d always been so wound up, so strung out, so exhausted, that he put his head down and closed his eyes and he was asleep. For very long? Not usually. Restful? Not often. But he could manage being unconscious.

The war ends, the lions sacrificing themselves for the greater good. Keith’s heart aches with missing both Red and Black, because at least when they were around, he wasn’t alone.

The war ends, and Hunk and Lance and Pidge get to be with their families. Allura and Coran happily busy themselves with politics and peace-keeping. Shiro has the Atlas, which in turn means he has the Garrison in his pocket. He certainly deserves their groveling, as well as all the back pay.

The war ends, and Keith is happy to know his mom, but she has her own life and obligations, even with the greater war over. He’s proud to be part of the Blades, but he’s tired of being a leader. He was always so much more comfortable following someone he believed in. He doesn’t like people looking at his back.

The war ends, and with it so many stressors and pains and agonies.

And Keith stops sleeping.

***

“Grounded? Leader, why–? I’m perfectly capable of going on another mission!”

Kolivan’s facial expression doesn’t change. “You’ve been back from your previous mission for barely one movement. You’re in no way recovered.”

Keith bristles. “I did well on that mission. I completed my objective with minimal repercussions and no one was injured.”

“No one except yourself,” Kolivan says sternly. “Do not be coy.”

“What, my shoulder?” Keith rotates it. It barely makes him wince. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“You’re always fine,” Kolivan says flatly. “But until you can pass a medical examination without your heart rate beating in your chest like a _glav’trok_ , we are done here. You’re on mandatory rest.” 

“Wait, no–” Keith blanches. “Isn’t there something I can do?”

“You can get some rest.”

“No, please, I–” Keith has an apartment on the Atlas that’s always his, courtesy of Shiro, and an apartment on Earth. The latter is cold and lonely and sparsely furnished, though the locks are state-of-the-art. The former is less cold and lonely, if only because being on the Atlas means Shiro is nearer, but Shiro has so many obligations now and people asking for his time. He still makes Keith a priority, but Keith doesn’t like making him feel as though that’s necessary; he can’t just follow Shiro around like a puppy forever. Shiro deserves to shine like a star in the way he used to before. “I need something to do.” He can’t just be alone to rattle around with his own thoughts. 

‘You need to _rest,_ ” Kolivan says again, though he sounds slightly less severe. Then, softer, “Keith, have you spoken to Hwatik recently?”

Keith presses his lips together. Hwatik is _kant’on._ A soul mender. Essentially a therapist, for all that the Blades don’t use that word. Blade work is hard and can be deadly, even with the war over. You can lose family, friends, or yourself, in the work. Those who are _kant’on_ use their skills to help others rest more easily.

The thing is, Keith has never much liked therapists. None of the other ones he’s had ever actually fucking listened to him. Besides--he knows full well that talking to someone else has never solved his problems before. He’s required to speak to Hwatik as part of his mission debrief, but most others take advantage of regular sessions. Keith… does not.

“Keith.”

“No,” Keith grits out. “Not recently.” Fuck, he’s so tired.

Kolivan sighs. “Keith.”

Keith looks away. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime–”

“You are on leave for the next two movements. Dismissed.”

“But–!”

“Dismissed,” Kolivan growls.

Keith stalks out, hackles up, and goes straight to the training room. His shoulder hurts and he’s been taking pains to hide a limp, but he needs something to keep his body busy. Busy body, busy mind, because Keith’s never been able to separate the two. If he throws himself into work, he stops _thinking_ for once, and he needs the reprieve, because his thoughts are always spinning, senses heightened, waiting to react to threats–

Maybe if he works hard enough, he’ll finally be able to sleep.

It hasn’t been an effective tactic yet, but he doesn’t have anything else to try.

***

Later, tossing and turning in his bunk, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing he could just let go and _cry_ or something, Keith finally decides something has to change. He’s been getting by okay up until now, but if Kolivan’s taking him off of missions, Keith doesn’t have anything else left. Blades work was difficult and tiring and could be all-consuming, but that’s exactly why Keith liked it. 

_Rest_ Kolivan had said. Keith doesn’t remember his last good night’s sleep.

Well… no. He does, actually. He’s had so few of them recently that he remembers the good nights.

It’d been during a visit with Shiro. Of course, because Keith knows he can relax around him. He trusts no one else as completely to watch his back. About a month ago now. 

Keith had been visiting the Atlas while Shiro was on base, spending the weekend there. Just two nights, because that’s all of Shiro’s time that he could allow himself to take. After a really nice first day of just talking and walking and eating and hanging out, they’d parted ways to turn in, and of course Keith hadn’t been able to. So he’d gotten up and crept to a training room and gotten to work… and Shiro had stumbled in not half an hour later.

He remembers stumbling a little himself, not expecting Shiro in pajama bottoms and a tank top to suddenly appear. _“Shiro?”_

 _“There you are.”_ Shiro had looked relieved but also concerned. _“What are you even doing?”_

 _“Couldn’t sleep,”_ Keith had shrugged. 

Shiro had nodded, like he understood. Of all of them, probably Shiro understood best. _“Wanna watch something together in my rooms?”_

Guilt had clawed at Keith’s throat, but he was always weak for Shiro. _“Yeah, sure.”_

And they’d gone back together, and Shiro had pushed Keith towards his large, no-more-cutting-corners bed and the pile of soft blankets that seemed to get bigger every time Keith visited and pulled up something on a holoscreen. Keith had fallen asleep fifteen minutes into the show, Shiro a warm press into his side and surrounded by his scent. He’d woken up refreshed and _so_ incredibly relieved at having had gotten an actual night’s sleep that he hadn’t even had it in him to be mortified at the knowledge of what it apparently took to get one.

Keith presses his hands into his eyes. He’s so tired they hurt, and it’s both too late and too early. He knows going to the training deck now would just get back to Kolivan and maybe even his mom, and he doesn’t want to deal with that. Doesn’t want to be a bother. The war is over. His problems are nothing.

With nothing left to do, Keith grabs his padd and squints at it in the dark. He blames his brain not firing with all cylinders for typing in _how do I stop thinking?_ Ridiculous.

Eyelids lowering to half-mast, he scans article headings on meditation and rewiring an AI and just starts playing the “fill in the word” search game, where he sees what pops up next.

_how do I stop thinking_

_how to stop thinking at night_

_how to stop thinking at night so i can sleep_

_i want to sleep but my brain won't stop talking to itself_

_can't sleep mind won't turn off_

_my brain never turns off_

_i wish i could turn my brain off_

_what is subspace brain like_

_what is subspace like_

At first he’s not really sure what lack of sleep and linear subspace mathematics have anything to do with each other--though that is the point of the game, after all--but then his eyes focus long enough for him to read _What is subspace? · Dissociation, or feeling like you're in “another world” · A feeling of calm and well-being · Extreme relaxation or “floppiness” · A..._

He’s too tired to actually call it a piqued interest, but it’s something to read.

One article turns into two. Turns into six, and then he finds some articles with video links.

 _Impact play._ It’s the first link, and he almost closes the window when he sees the naked sub bent over a bench, but he needs to _know_ so he watches, watches as the dom uses a flogger--expertly avoiding the kidneys, which at least Keith appreciates–

 _Bondage and restraint._ The sub is completely trussed up, in a blindfold and gag, with mitts on their hands, and holding still while the dom knots incredibly intricate rope designs criss-crossing all over their body–

 _Wax play._ The dom drips wax of all different colors all over the sub’s bare body as the sub gasps at each wax spill–

He has to stop because of how much his eyes hurt, but in every video, no matter how tame or hardcore or overtly sexual, there’s one common thing, at the end: the sub looks _relaxed._

Calm and content and settled, as the dom rubs balm into their redden skin or ties off the last of the ropes or praises them for how pretty the wax looks on their skin.

It seems... 

It seems like what he’s been chasing. A way to turn his brain off. Not feel, for a little while. _Rest._

He bites his lip and powers down his pad, squeezing his eyes shut again, chasing sleep that won’t come. New things and ideas whirl through his mind. Situations and possibilities and potentials.

Hope, maybe, amid the fear of being vulnerable.

But if Keith did proper research, maybe? If he really did his best to find someone who knew what they were doing? Then it wouldn’t be as painful, maybe. He could just look at it as medical treatment. Something. 

His fists clench in the blankets. It sounds so good. Relief. He wants it. Wants it so much. He hates to think that the best times of his life were a handful of snatched moments where he got to feel safe and not scared before and during the war. Hates even more how few of them there are.

Maybe… maybe he _is_ due for another visit to Shiro. Shiro could probably help him brainstorm ideas, for one. Or tell him he’s being stupid. Whichever.

***

When the war ended, Shiro thoroughly threw himself into having autonomy. For him, that meant moving away from the Garrison--away from Arizona completely. He still works for them, but for the most part he works remote. And for the times they need him in person (or Atlas needs him), Shiro’s only about an hour's flight away. It’s come up a few times during their talks, that Shiro felt moving to California was the right thing to do. He likes being by the water, likes the land that he has, and likes his privacy. He likes that he can come and go mostly as he pleases and that he has the freedoms to explore other interests.

Keith thinks that happiness is a good look on Shiro. He never gets tired of seeing it, and it’s something that keeps him standing some days, to know that Shiro is safe and happy and enjoying his life.

“I’m thinking of paying Earth a visit,” Keith starts, when Shiro picks up the call. He’s never been one to beat around the bush. 

“Yeah?” Shiro smiles, a warm, bright thing that makes Keith ache around the edges. “You going to stay for a while, maybe?”

“Maybe,” Keith says. “It depends.” _It depends on what I find. If I find it._ “Will you be around?”

“For you? Of course. Always.”

 _Always._ Keith clings to it, to how Shiro doesn’t think he’s a burden yet. At least the camera probably doesn’t pick up that his smile is on the watery side. “Great.”

“Please tell me you’re coming to California though.” Shiro clasps his hands together and leans forward.

It makes Keith laugh. “I don’t want to impose. I have a place--”

“Atlas is grounded and I’m not there, so you’ll hate it, and your apartment doesn’t even have a proper bed in it.” Shiro holds up his fingers, counting off his reasons. “And as I have said, repeatedly, I have plenty of space here.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Personal landing strip, remember.”

Keith doesn’t bother to hide his smile. “You sure your neighbors won’t try to steal my tires?”

“What neighbors? And what tires?” Shiro shakes his head, his tone still light but turning more heartfelt. “Seriously Keith, please? Stay with me. You only stayed that one time when you helped me move, and it’s been like three months. I have decorations now!”

“I know,” Keith points out. “You’ve given me video tours.”

“Not the same at all,” Shiro replies, waggling his finger.

Keith doesn’t know why he’s even bothering to fight. No, he does know--it’s because he so desperately _wants_ to stay with Shiro. And… stay with Shiro.

“If you don’t want to stay at my place,” Shiro says next, sounding just a touch hurt to someone who knows him, “then at the very least let me dock your ship and put you up at a nice hotel–”

“No, no, that’s okay,” Keith says quickly. Shiro’s not the problem here, and Keith refuses to let him think anything otherwise. “I’d love to stay with you. I just… worry. About upsetting your life.”

Shiro gives Keith a bewildered look. “My life is better with you in it.” His eyes soften. “You know that.”

Keith swallows. _I love you._ “Let’s talk dates then. For my visit.”

“Yeah,” Shiro says, clearly happy to have won. “Let’s.”

***

Keith arrives in California only a few days later, easing his sleek, streamlined ship down onto the large landing area that Shiro had built on his property pretty much the moment he bought it. Shiro is waiting for him, because of course he is. 

“Keith!” And he smiles wide, eyes crinkling around the edges, his _real_ smile, and he holds out his arms. Keith has to keep himself from falling into them.

“Hey,” he says instead, throwing Shiro the best grin he can before stepping in for a hug that is hopefully a little less desperate. “Good to see you.”

“Yeah,” Shiro says. “I’ve missed you. Can’t hug a screen, you know.”

 _I’ve missed you too._ “Yeah,” Keith says, closing his eyes for the moment that he gets to inhale Shiro’s scent. “I know what you mean.”

“How long was the flight? Do you need something to eat? Or to rest?”

Keith does a mental check. He’s always tired now, down to his bones, but he just arrived and wants to see Shiro. He won’t be able to sleep anyway, but he’s probably hungry. He’s recently slid back into the bad habit of forgetting to remember his hunger. “I could eat.”

“Great.” Shiro pulls back and lets him go--only then does Keith realize that Shiro has been holding him this whole time. Shiro smiles again, so warm Keith could bask in it. “Let’s get you taken care of.”

“Sounds good to me. Do you have someplace in mind?”

“My place,” Shiro says cheerfully, reaching for Keith’s pack. “I want to show off.”

Keith allows Shiro to take his little bag of things without fuss. Keith has always lived his life being fiercely independent, and he knows it makes Shiro happy to see Keith acquiesce to someone else’s wishes to do things for him. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” Shiro’s other hand is a warm press against Keith’s back as he leads Keith to the well-sized three-story Shiro now calls his own. “I have everything all set up.”

 _Everything all set up_ apparently means a veritable feast for two. Shiro ushers Keith into a seat, sets Keith’s bag down on another chair, and then gets to assembling rolls of sushi as Keith watches.

Shiro winks at him as he picks up a gleaming-sharp blade. “I expect you to compliment my knife skills.”

It’s not the only thing Keith compliments as he watches Shiro expertly roll and shape and slice. “Looks like the new arm is working out well,” he blurts.

Shiro stops to flex it. “It really is. God, I’m so happy to have an elbow again.”

“You’ve had an elbow for your last three arms,” Keith points out.

“And I will never let elbows go under appreciated again,” Shiro says solemnly, getting back to work on the food. “But no, this one is really cool. Matt and Pidge and Allura finally figured out how to get full touch sensitivity.”

“Oh, wow. That’s awesome.” Keith almost reaches out to touch himself. 

“Right? Plus, the tech that lets me have touch sensitivity also has a mild forcefield effect.” Shiro holds up his right hand and wiggles his fingers. “So it essentially repels dirt and grim and stuff. No more gunk stuck in my joints!”

“That’s great,” Keith enthuses.

“Thank you. I’m really happy with it. I love not having to worry about cleaning as much. It makes everything so much easier. Now I get to just take a shower like a normal person, instead of having to go over every hinge with a rag and a toothpick.”

Keith huffs a laugh. “You say that like I haven’t helped you do it.”

“Oh no, I’m saying it because I know you remember exactly how tedious that was.” Shiro sets another plate on the table. “I appreciate the little things. Like elbows, and being able to take showers.”

It goes unsaid that the both of them appreciate the freedom of washing when they want to. It’s a luxury, being clean. But Keith also appreciates how easy it is, with Shiro, to keep moving forward, instead of getting stuck in a feedback loop of anxiety.

The he blinks as he takes in the growing spread Shiro is laying out on the kitchen table. “Wow… you weren’t kidding before about showing off.”

Shiro grins. “Natzuki-san says I’ve really gotten better. Still, I’ve mostly been cooking for myself. Your job is to tell me that I did things right. Or terribly wrong, I guess, but I’m mostly hoping for _wow, Shiro, this tastes amazing.”_

He assembles Keith a plate with two of everything, then fixes his own plate and sits across from Keith, smiling brightly. “Go on, don’t spare my feelings. 

“Wow,” Keith says, after he swallows his first mouthful. “This is amazing.”

“Close! You’re supposed to say this _tastes_ amazing.” Shiro beams at him. “But I’ll take it.”

Keith snorts and pops another piece of sushi into his mouth. He wishes the rest of his life were this easy.

***

“Continuing our conversation from before,” Keith says after dinner, and after Shiro refuses to let him help with the dishes. “I could probably stand to take a shower. Is it all right if I set-up in the guest room?”

Shiro looks confused. “What?”

“The guest room,” Keith repeats, uncertain. Did Shiro forget he offered Keith a place to stay? “It’s still that room down the hall, isn’t it?”

“I mean yeah, it is but—oh,” Shiro snorts. “That’s right, you haven’t seen it yet. Here, let’s go.”

“Seen what yet?” Keith asks, grabbing his pack and following Shiro up the stairs to the second floor.

“Your room,” Shiro says easily, like it’s nothing. Like he didn’t just make Keith’s world tilt. 

“My… room?”

Shiro nods, exuding happiness. “Yeah, I had it finished like two months ago. It’s just been waiting for you to pay it a visit.” He turns at the landing and then heads to the door that leads to the third story, motioning Keith to open it.

“I thought this led to the loft,” Keith says, bewildered. Shiro had enthused for hours on how much he was in-love with the house’s loft, and how beautiful the view was, and how excited he was that it had opportunity for a balcony.

“It does.” Shiro pokes Keith in the back. “Now go up and admire my work.”

Keith has no idea what to expect as he climbs the stairs. He remembers a huge room with wood paneling and a ceiling that needed repair, and he also remembers Shiro surveying the space with a gleam in his eye.

What he ends up seeing takes his breath away. The loft has been completely finished and painted, the walls and ceiling an off-white with pale green trim that makes the large room open and airy. There’s a skylight and huge windows that only make the space bigger and brighter, and there’s an enormous, comfortable-looking bed tucked into an alcove on one side. In the main area is a space with a large desk and very ergonomic-looking office chair, placed just behind a couch, coffee-table, and screen set-up, but the rest is empty. There is tasteful art on the walls, the abstract stuff Keith gravitates towards because he finds it less distracting.

Keith looks to Shiro, eyes wide.

“I figured you’d want some space to exercise and do your forms and stuff in private,” Shiro says, “which is why there’s all that empty room, but obviously you can change whatever you want. Same thing for the art. Except that one.” He nods at a picture of purple and blue swirls. “Romelle painted that one and I think it’d hurt her feelings if you took it down.”

“I wouldn’t take it down,” Keith says, completely blindsided by what Shiro is saying. Offering. He _built Keith a room._ A floor, really. In his house. Apparently all for Keith. “It’s beautiful.”

Shiro laughs. “It is nice, isn’t it? She really took to acrylics. Here—let me show you the bathroom.”

“This place didn’t _have_ a bathroom,” Keith says faintly, following Shiro to a door off to the side.

“Well yeah,” Shiro says. “That’s why it took me a month to get the place ready. The contractors did a good job though! And fast work.” He opens the door.

It’s a full bathroom in bright white, complete with a large shower that could fit three of Keith. Keith doesn't know what to say. “Shiro…”

“The water pressure’s amazing,” Shiro says proudly. “I was pretty particular about it.”

“O-oh.”

“Let me show you the balcony! It turned out exactly as good as I knew it would. Better, even. You’ll love the view. It looks right onto the water.”

Keith admires the balcony. It is indeed nice and the view is indeed gorgeous. He tentatively tries to ask Shiro why the loft isn’t _Shiro’s_ space, since Shiro obviously loves it so much and put so much work into it, but Shiro doesn’t seem to understand the question.

“It’s for you,” he says after a minute. “I wanted to make sure you had a place here. That you knew you had a place here.”

Keith’s heart aches. “Thanks, Shiro,” he says quietly.

Shiro’s smile is almost sad. “Of course. Now here—I’ll let you take that shower. Do you think you’ll want to go to bed after? I don’t remember your time difference.”

“Nah,” Keith says, ignoring the fact that for him it’s about two in the morning. It’s not like he’ll be able to sleep anyway. “I’ll probably be up for a while. But I can, uh, stay up here if you need me to.”

“Are you kidding? You just got here and I haven’t seen you in person in like a month. I want all the Keith-time I can get.”

***

Keith isn’t exactly sure how to bring up the subject that he wants to discuss with Shiro, so he goes about it in his usual way: blurting out the thought with absolutely no finesse.

“And you found out about this by accident?” Shiro asks, sounding careful.

Keith nods. “Yeah just… doing some searches and it came up, and it caught my attention so I started reading up on it and…” he tries to breathe. And be honest. Shiro usually makes honesty so effortless, but this is still hard. “I don’t know. I… I like the idea of it? Not… not any of the hardcore stuff, but just like… letting someone else take the reigns for a little while.” He sighs. “I don’t know,” he says again, looking at the floor. “Maybe it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Shiro says at once. 

Keith exhales gratefully. “You don’t think I’m being dumb, considering this?”

“Of course not,” Shiro says. “I know a little bit about that scene. I know some people really find release in... subbing.”

“Yeah,” Keith says. He’s kind of relieved to hear that Shiro knows enough that Keith doesn’t have to explain it all. “That’s what all the articles and stuff said. And I don’t--I don’t think I could just… jump into it. But I was--I don’t know, thinking about maybe trying to… see? Um, what it was like. In person.”

There is a pressing moment of silence that makes something inside of Keith twist.

“Like… find a dom?” Shiro asks, face unreadable.

“Maybe,” Keith hedges. His palms itch--they always do when he’s nervous, and he isn’t sure why. Just talking about this out loud makes him feel vulnerable. Like it’s not okay to want something so much. Especially when he’s not entirely sure what it is he wants. “Or at least more about the… the scene. Maybe, um. Maybe at least meet someone I could talk to.” 

Shiro nods. “Okay. Well… it’s California, so I’m sure there are places around here we could visit.”

 _We._ Keith breathes a little easier. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Okay, yeah. Sure.” Shiro smiles at him, and Keith recognizes the one Shiro uses when he’s trying to be a calming presence. Keith must really look like a mess. “Do you want to do some research tomorrow? Maybe hit up a place tomorrow night?”

Keith rubs his hands on his thighs. “Yeah. Yeah, that’d be cool.”

“Okay.” Shiro reaches out to squeeze Keith’s shoulder. The pressure, as always, is a just-right comfort. “It’s a plan.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith’s never seen sea glass before, and the first piece Shiro shows him strikes Keith as so unassumingly pretty. It’s amazing to see some trash made of sharp edges softened from the ocean’s rough treatment into something so appealing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I hope you like this latest chapter. It was a _blast_ to write :3 
> 
> (hope it's okay that it's on the shorter side, but... you'll notice that our chapter count has now gone up...)

Sleep comes a little easier, in the room Shiro had built for him, but Keith still wakes up too many times during the night, still pushes himself out of bed too early with a groan. 

Being able to walk out onto Shiro’s balcony almost makes it worth it, though. He gets to watch the sun light up the water as the stars fade from view. Gets to smell a bright, fresh morning. 

He likes how refreshing the scent of dew is. He’s not used to it. Space is dryer than Arizona.

He ends up liking the balcony so much that he does his stretches there. It’s a pretty decently-sized area, with plenty of room for him to lie down. For two people, even, to sit side-by side and watch the sunrise. Or the stars.

Keith finishes up his stretches and checks the time. It’s still early, but more regular-person early. He certainly doesn't want to wake Shiro up, but maybe he won’t disturb Shiro by going downstairs. During the proper tour, Shiro had been very clear that Keith was to make himself at home, help himself to the refrigerator, whatever. And Keith hasn’t had the wherewithal to improve his cooking skills much with his work schedule, but he knows his way around breakfast. 

He thinks about making Shiro breakfast, in Shiro’s house, and goes warm all over picturing it. Shiro has done so much for him-- _ does _ so much for him… imagining giving even just a little something back makes Keith swallow around a tight throat. Maybe it’s just the lack of sleep, but Keith can picture it: he’d make Shiro breakfast, and Shiro won’t have been expecting it. It’s simple, but that’s okay. Even if Keith is never able to offer much, Shiro always sees that Keith’s tried. And he’s always so pleased by it, smiling like the sun.

Keith loves when he’s able to please Shiro.

The want almost makes him choke, and he has to push his hands into his eyes. Shiro’s just so  _ good _ . He deserves everything. Anything. 

Keith wishes he had more to offer.

***

“Keith,” Shiro says when he pads into the kitchen at six-thirty, sleep-rumpled and looking devastating. It’s good timing, because Keith’s just finished plating the scrambled eggs. “What–”

Keith ducks his head, suddenly feeling foolish. “I hope it’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay,” Shiro says. “I said you were welcome to help yourself and I meant that. But you didn’t have to think of me, too.”

“I wanted to.” Keith looks over the table. It’s just toast and scrambled eggs. Nothing fancy. Though he did riffle through Shiro’s cabinets to find the cinnamon and sugar, so he could make the buttery-sweet toast that he remembers Shiro liking. “But if you don’t like it, that’s okay. If you want to have something else.”

“I just feel bad,” Shiro says, immediately going to sit down. “I was going to make breakfast for you.”

“I wanted to,” Keith says again. 

Shiro smiles at him. “Thanks.” His eyes light up as he spies the cinnamon. “Oh hey--did you make the cinnamon sugar toast?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t believe you remembered! Sometimes even I forget I like it so much.” He smiles again at Keith, and it’s everything Keith’s ever wanted. “Thank you. Now c’mere.” He pats the table. “I don’t want to dine alone.”

Keith snorts. “Dork.”

“Yep,” Shiro says cheerfully. “At your service.”

***

After breakfast Shiro insists on taking Keith to the beach, so Keith dutifully applies sunscreen under Shiro’s watchful eye. An hour turns into two, turns into three, of just walking up and down the shore. Keith’s never seen sea glass before, and the first piece Shiro shows him strikes Keith as so unassumingly pretty. It’s amazing to see some trash made of sharp edges softened from the ocean’s rough treatment into something so appealing.

Shiro’s face does something funny when Keith shares this thought, but all he does is promise Keith pockets full of sea glass. By the time they realize it’s past lunch time, Keith does indeed have a lovely handful of differently-colored glass, all various shapes and pleasantly smooth to the touch.

Keith asks if he can help with lunch and tries not to be disappointed when Shiro tells him he already has food made. He wants to be helpful--be useful--to Shiro. Shiro may have invited him here, but Keith doesn't want Shiro to think he’s not pulling his own weight. He doesn’t like thinking of himself as a guest in Shiro’s life.

“Do you want to grab dishes and stuff?” Shiro asks as he stoops to stick the pasta bake in the oven. “And I can just real quick read through the subject lines of the emails I’m ignoring.”

It’s a relief to have something to do, and Keith eagerly goes over to the cupboards. He already knows where everything is from that morning, so it’s nothing to get everything together and set the table for two.

It takes so little time, in fact, that the pasta bake isn’t done yet, and Shiro’s still scrolling through his phone. So Keith grabs his own and starts flicking through the pictures he and Shiro took together on the beach. He never used to be a pictures person, because what did he have worth remembering?

It’s easy now, to smile down at the picture he snapped of Shiro stooping down to show him a tide pool, face expressive and alive.

“Keith?”

Keith looks up from his phone. Shiro’s smiling at him, a soft tilt to his mouth. “Yeah? Did you get good news?”

Shiro blinks “Hm? Oh, no, just the usual. And Atlas being sad because she still hasn’t figured out a way to upload herself into my house.”

“She--what?”

Shiro chuckles. “She’s been trying to download a version of herself through, I don’t know, my wifi or something and keeps running calculations on how much power it would take for her to operate that portion of herself remotely. She’s very annoyed she hasn’t been able to manage it yet.”

Keith peers around Shiro’s kitchen. “What’s she hoping to do, take over the microwave?”

“I think she was thinking more like a TV or something,” Shiro says with a grin. “Mostly she’s mad that she can’t be in my head the way she was before. I need to be physically in the Atlas for that. So now I just get a bunch of messages and pouty emojis.”

It makes Keith grin too. He doesn’t get along with Atlas the way Shiro does of course, but he engages with her enough to know he likes her. “Poor Atlas.”

Shiro rolls his eyes. “Pasta bake’s probably ready.”

Still grinning, Keith beats Shiro to standing to retrieve it from the oven. It smells amazing, and he says as much. It’s just as amazing to see Shiro color ever-so-slightly, pleasure rolling off of him. ‘“It tastes good too.”

“I’ll bet.” Shiro got dedicated to learning how to cook, once he was given the luxury of doing so again. And Keith is well-aware of how Shiro is good at literally anything he puts his mind to. “Can’t wait.”

***

“So,” Shiro says, plopping himself down next to Keith on the living room’s overlarge sectional. There’s plenty of space, but Shiro gets close enough that they’re practically shoulder-to-shoulder. “Thought we could do that research now. If you still wanted?”

Keith nods hurriedly. It’d been on his mind, but he hadn’t known how to bring it up again. It’s a relief that Shiro has. “Yeah. Yes, please.”

“Okay,” Shiro says, holding up his tablet. He has that expression he always gets when he’s about to throw himself headfirst into something. It does something to Keith, to see Shiro so willing to support him in this thing he’s hoping to try, even though it’s outside the norm. “So the first thing to start with is what it is you’re looking for. The more details the better. It’ll help us narrow down places we might want to check out.”

“And help with finding someone?” Keith asks tentatively.

Shiro glances down at the tablet. “Right, yeah.” He clears his throat. “If you start out with a clear goal in mind of what you want, you’ll have less chance at having an experience you don’t want or like. And we want to avoid that in every way we can.”

“Okay.” Keith trusts Shiro with everything. It’s easy enough to trust him with this too. And it settles something in him, to hear Shiro approach this like a battle. Gather intel, come up with a plan of action, get things right the first time, if possible. “So what do you want to know?”

“Anything you’ll tell me, I guess.” Shiro taps his cheek, obviously thinking. “Or, okay… you might not know what you like yet, since you haven’t really done anything. What are some things you  _ don’t _ think you’ll like?”

Keith thinks about it. “Probably not humiliation,” he says eventually. “Like, um. Being called names. Or… degraded and stuff.” It’s suddenly hard to talk, even though it’s Shiro. “I don’t… um.” He has to look at his knees. “I don’t want to... feel like I’m being bad.”

Shiro nods seriously, and it’s a relief. “Okay, sure. Got it. Anything else that’s a ‘no’?”

“I don’t know,” Keith says after another long minute. “Probably nothing on the more extreme side of painful? I think that might trigger a fight response or something.”

“Which is definitely the opposite of relaxing,” Shiro says wryly. “Yeah, of course.”

“But impact play would, uh, be a maybe. I’d be willing to try it.”

Shiro tilts his head. “Yeah?”

Keith feels himself  _ blush. _ “If the person knew what they were doing… maybe? There was this one video I saw--it was one of the first ones I watched. And the dom was obviously experienced. He knew how to make the sub feel the blows without having to put too much force behind them, and was clearly avoiding areas that could have caused damage.” He rubs his right thumb over his left palm. “And I’ve, you know, I’ve got plenty of experience getting hit--I don’t think I’m after pain. But it could be good? To, uh, be in that sort of situation and be in control of what was happening. Even I wasn’t in control of it.” Keith bites his lip. “That doesn’t make any sense, sorry.”

“No,” Shiro hurries to assure him. “I think I get it. Yeah, you wouldn’t be in control of the blows or how they happened or where, but you’d be in control of the scene. You’d go into it knowing you  _ could  _ stop it at any time, because you can always safeword. The reason you wouldn’t is because you’re trusting your dom to give you that release you need, and you know he’ll be able to get you there.”

“Oh,” Keith says quietly. “Um. Yeah.”

“The thing a lot of people don’t understand,” Shiro continues easily, “is that the dom isn’t really the one calling the shots. It’s about what the sub wants and needs. The dom just has the privilege of providing that. And if the sub is satisfied with their treatment, the dom gets satisfaction too, knowing they did a good job. That they provided the proper care. The only thing a good dom really wants is to make sure their sub gets what he--what they need, whatever that might be.”

“I never thought of that,” Keith says, turning the words over in his mind. “I thought it was about the dom being in control.”

“It is, yeah,” Shiro says after a second. “Doms typically like the control aspect a lot. While subs need to give up control, doms usually get pleasure and satisfaction from being in control--and then using it to do things  _ right. _ That’s why the best gift a sub can give to a dom is their trust. That’s the real power.”

“Huh, okay.” Keith… really likes that. He likes the idea that being good for someone might bring  _ them _ pleasure. It seems less selfish, thinking about it like that. “That’s good to know.”

“Oh, um.” Shiro scratches his cheek. “Good.”

Keith slides Shiro a glance. “You really do know about this, huh?”

Shiro huffs a laugh and leans into him, knocking their shoulders together. “A little, yeah. Enough to be able to help you out, I hope.”

“It’s helping a lot,” Keith tells him seriously. “Thank you.”

Shiro lights up. “I’m glad.”

Keith nods, considering. “So yeah, impact play is a maybe. And I think I’d like to try restraints?”

“Oh?”

“I think so.” He shrugs. “It goes along with the giving up control thing? I guess.”

Shiro hums in assent and taps on the tablet.

“Maybe I could try that first,” Keith adds.

“Try what first?”

“Restraints. It’d probably be easier to find someone who knows his way around those, over someone I’d trust to hit me.”

Shiro’s fingers twitch. “Right. Yeah.”

“Is that a good place to start?” Keith asks, when Shiro doesn’t say anything else.

“Yeah,” Shiro says. “Yeah, perfect. Let’s…” he takes a breath and then smiles at Keith. “Let’s see what we can find for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THESE TWO DUMMIES!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Huh,” Shiro says as Atlas-pretending-to-be-his-phone’s-GPS says _they’ve arrived._ They’ve walked three blocks from the parking garage to a warehouse-esque building at the end of a cul-de-sac. “Looks like this is the place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, remember when we had a concrete number of chapters? Ha...ha...

They dress casually and as low-key as they can, because while things have settled down slightly in the last year, both Shiro and Keith are annoyingly recognizable. Shiro more than Keith is, with his white hair and prosthetic arm and signature scar. To combat this as much as possible, Shiro’s wearing a tank top under an open, long sleeved button-up and a synth-skin glove designed specifically to fly a bit more under the radar. He’s also wearing a beanie pulled low over his hair, and the unfortunate effect of it all is that he looks very much like someone who wouldn’t normally associate with the likes of Keith, all scuffed sneakers and ragged jeans and sharp edges.

“Huh,” Shiro says as Atlas-pretending-to-be-his-phone’s-GPS says  _ they’ve arrived. _ They’ve walked three blocks from the parking garage to a warehouse-esque building at the end of a cul-de-sac. “Looks like this is the place.”

Keith eyes it. It doesn’t look like a den of iniquity, but then again, he’s also really hoping it isn’t one, so he’s not sure why he feels oddly disappointed. Maybe because he’d expected more ambiance. Something a little more  _ real. _

“Why don’t we head inside,” Shiro suggests, his hand coming to rest at the small of Keith’s back. A welcome, grounding touch. “We’ll get a better feel for the place once in it, right?”

“Right.” Keith knows he’s nervous, because the word comes out stilted and flat. Words are one of the first things to go when Keith isn’t comfortable. It’s a habit he’s mostly been able to break, after both being in an intergalactic war and being a  _ leader  _ during said war, but while he can command a room or a squadron if he needs to, the energy required to do that always leaves him so tired. It often leads him to being effectively mute in his downtime, turning down social situations and calls he’d otherwise try to participate in.

He’s never said no to Shiro, but then again, Shiro sometimes can tell just from looking at Keith’s face that he needs to be the one to hold up the conversation. Keith’s perfectly happy to listen and make encouraging noises. That’s much less difficult.

The hand on his back drops to his waist, and Keith finds himself being pulled into a one-armed hug. “Hey,” Shiro murmurs. “It’s okay. We’re just here to learn and get some information to start with. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, or talk to anyone you don’t want to talk to. We also don’t have to stay--we can head out whenever, and just go home and have a movie night or something. Whatever you want to do. I’m here for you, for this. Okay?”

“Okay.” Keith exhales. 

Shiro squeezes one more time and draws away. His hand travels back to where it was resting before, and gently pushes, guiding Keith forward. “Alright, let’s go check things out.”

Keith nods and does his best not to settle into mission mode, where he grits his teeth and pushes through no matter how hard something is. That’s the opposite of what this is all supposed to be about. He needs to just breathe and let himself hope. Open up a little. Even if things somehow go terribly wrong (they won’t), he has Shiro at his back. 

It’ll be  _ fine. _

And the inside of the warehouse is actually a good start, Keith realizes, once Shiro pushes the door open and leads them both inside. It’s painted white and light blue, making the space large and airy, and it’s well-lit. About half the area is matted. The other half is carpeted, and there are a number of folding chairs set out. There’s a little mini bar set up on one side of the carpeted area. People are milling around or sitting in chairs, and there’s a lot of chatter, the low buzz that covers an area full of small talk.

They’re approached almost at once by a tall, slender man with bright red hair and a face full of freckles. “Hey there. I’m Daniel, one of the event hosts. My pronouns are he/him. Haven’t seen you two before! Welcome.”

“Hi,” Shiro says, smiling easily and with effortless charm. “I’m Ryou, and this is Akira. Nice to meet you. And ah, also he/him, the both of us.”

Keith shakes when Daniel holds out his hand, and does his best attempt at a smile.

“Have you two been to an event like this before?” Daniel asks. His very nature is friendly, which Keith appreciates. The question isn’t off-putting.

“I haven’t,” Keith says, shaking his head. He immediately has to fight down a scowl, because he doesn’t want to be closed-off here. He wants to try to meet people. That means giving more than one or two word answers.

“I only moved to the area a few months ago and Akira’s pretty new to the scene entirely,” Shiro further explains. Keith shoots him a grateful look. “We’re actually hoping to meet some people with similar interests. Make some friends, you know?”

Daniel grins. “Hey, that’s great! Welcome. Uh, again. We’ve got a great group of people here. No one uninterested in ‘safe, sane, and consensual,’ if you get my meaning.”

Something in Keith unclenches as Shiro smiles. “That’s exactly what we’re looking for.”

“Awesome!” Keith finds himself smiling a little himself at Daniel’s enthusiasm.  _ Daniel _ looks relaxed and safe and happy. “Here, let me show you around and introduce you to our demonstration team.”

“That’d be great,” Shiro says.

“Hey, happy to do it. You’re the only two new faces here, so people’ll be wanting to chat anyway. Especially Lauren--she owns the building.”

“It’s a nice space,” Keith offers.

“Right?” Daniel gestures, a wide-sweeping arc. “It’s an aerial studio, which makes it a great place to host demonstrations. Rigs are already in place for suspension and stuff. Oh--and if you’re interested, Lauren offers a special for first-timers. A week of beginning aerial classes.”

“Oh,” Keith says. “That’s cool.” He hesitates then adds, because he’s trying, “I don’t really know tricks, but I can climb and know some footlocks.”

Daniel beams. “Oh, yeah? You should definitely talk to Lauren then. If you’re interested in joining aerial, one of us can give you a skill test. Maybe place you in a more advanced class.”

“Maybe. Thank you.”

Daniel nods and leads them over to three people, who all stop talking and smile at them as they approach. 

“Hey Daniel,” says an incredibly petite woman with very curly blonde hair. “New faces?”

“This is Ryou and Akira,” Daniel says. “They just moved here recently.”

“Nice to meet you! I’m Emma, she/her.” She holds her hand out to shake. “I’m one of the riggers.”

“Jacob, he/him,” says a man of about Hunk’s build and coloring. “Also one of the riggers. Welcome.”

“Ade, they/them.” Ade grins at them and waves, body shifting, and Keith realizes they have a prosthetic leg. “Rope bunny. Daniel’s partner-in-crime.”

“Ryou,” Shiro says, smiling back and shaking each hand. “He/him. Nice to meet you all.”

“Akira. Also he/him.” Keith swallows and takes a breath and decides to go for broke. “I’m, uh, I’m new. To the scene. Mostly I’ve just done a bunch of research but–” fuck, he’s messing this up “but it, um. It’s something I want to explore.”

“Hey,” Jacob says gently. “It’s okay if you’re a little nervous, trying something new.”

“A little nervous, yeah,” Keith allows himself to admit. “Sorry.”

Jacob shakes his head. “Nothing to be sorry about. We’re all here to have fun. And if you find out this sort of thing is something you’re into, that’s great. We’re a good group and happy to answer questions and stuff. But if it ends up not being your thing, that’s fine too. No pressure.”

_ No pressure. _

“Thanks,” Keith says. His smile is weak, but he tries.

“Seriously,” Ade adds, “As long as you don’t start like, quoting the bible at us, we won’t be mad.”

“Hatred stirs up conflict, but love covers over all wrongs,” Shiro intones. At Ade’s startled look, he adds. “Proverbs 10:12. If you’ve  _ got _ to pick a bible quote to throw at people, you might as well have one at the ready.”

Ade laughs. “I like you.”

It’s not hard to get drawn into conversation. Everyone is open and welcoming, and it’s easy chatter; Emma asks where they’ve moved from, and Shiro glosses over  _ space _ , instead talking more about why he chose California. Neither of them bother correcting the fact that it’s only Shiro that did the moving. Keith stays quiet for the most part, preferring to let the talking wash over him as he observes.

After a couple minutes, Daniel pulls out his phone and goes, “Oop, show time! Lemme go get everyone’s attention.”

“Sure,” Emma says. “It was nice meeting you two.”

“Here, why don’t you two get seated,” Daniel says. “I just have to shout for a second, and then the demonstration will start. I’m kind of non-verbal right after, but if you don’t mind sticking around for like ten extra minutes once things are over, I’d be happy to talk more, if you want to.”

“Oh,” Shiro says. He glances Keith’s way then says, “Yeah, sure. That’d be great.”

“Cool! Okay, talk to you in a bit then.”

Daniel heads off, and Shiro tilts his head toward the chairs. A few seconds later they’re settling into a pair of chairs in the second row, but off to the side, closest to the doors.

“How are you feeling?” Shiro murmurs.

“Pretty good,” Keith realizes. “I like them. They’re nice.”

“Good.”

And the demonstration itself is really interesting. Emma and Jacob go through different riggings and rope patterns and bindings on Daniel and Ade, and talk a lot about safety in suspension, and tells to look for; signs of strain or stress, especially when a sub is bound and gagged. It’s more than just informative--it’s settling. It’s not some sensationalized show. These are people who really do this and who enjoy doing this, and they’re… people. 

The hour passes pretty quickly all things considered, and when Ade and Daniel are lowered back down, blindfolds come off, gags come out, someone else comes onto the mat to get everyone’s attention and asks them to talk amongst themselves and enjoy refreshments on the carpeted area while the aftercare takes place.

Keith doesn’t get up. Instead he tries not to make it too obvious that he’s watching the four people on the mat. Emma and Jacob wrap blankets around Ade and Daniel, and then Jacob hands each of them a juice box and a granola bar. 

It’s different. Emma rubs Ade’s back while Ade eats slowly, but Daniel downs his portion and then fully curls up in Jacob’s lap, pushing his face into Jacob’s chest while Jacob strokes his hair. 

It looks intimate and cozy and peaceful, and Keith aches. 

He’s touched a lot, all things considered. The Galra are very tactile and some are also scent focused, so it’s typical for Keith to regularly have someone touch his hand or back or shoulder, or even brush a thumb over his cheek to scent-share in greeting or departure.

But aside from his mom sometimes, Keith certainly doesn’t have anyone to play with his hair. He doesn't get  _ held. _

“Keith?” Shiro asks, voice soft. “What do you think?”

Keith takes a breath, holds it for four, and lets it out. It still takes another second before he can say something without worrying about his voice wobbling. “Yeah. Yeah, I think this might be good.”

***

They end up getting approached by a tall woman who introduces herself as Lauren the studio owner, and she and Shiro fall into easy conversation while Keith mostly stays quiet and off to the side. He feels stupid about it, retreating into his own head as Shiro chats, while they’re literally at the event  _ Keith  _ wanted to go to so  _ he _ could try something. Shiro didn’t even have to come at all, but he did and he’s being amazing like he always is and Keith just… feels out of sorts.

When there’s a break in the talking, Shiro turns to him. “Hey, let me grab you some water, okay? Be right back.”

Keith tries to smile. Shiro makes him want to. “Oh, okay. Thanks.”

“Lauren?” Shiro asks. “Want me to grab you a bottle?”

“No thanks,” Lauren says. “I’m good.”

“Okay, just a sec then.”

Shiro leaves and Lauren stays, and Keith feels caught out.

Lauren smiles at him. “It’s really great that you two are looking to explore this together. Ryou seems like an awesome support, and it’s obvious how much he cares about you..” She laughs, a bright little thing that cuts into Keith like shards of glass. “I literally only met him ten minutes ago and I’d bet money that he’ll be your perfect dom.”

Keith opens his mouth and nothing comes out, because he doesn’t know if he’s supposed to confirm or deny. He and Shiro didn’t cover  _ that _ topic when they discussed their cover story.

He’s saved when Emma appears at his elbow. “Hey Akira! If you’re still interested in talking to Daniel, he’s up for it now. Still going to be in Jacob’s lap for a bit,” she adds cheerfully, “But Jacob’s lap is a good place to be.”

“Okay,” Keith says. “Thanks. I’d--yeah. I’d like to talk to him.” Someone gently touches his shoulder and Keith startles, immediately relaxing when he feels the familiar grounding squeeze. “Hey Ryou. Thanks.” He accepts the water bottle gratefully.

“Sure thing.” Shiro smiles at him. Then looks to Emma. “How’s Ade?”

Emma gives him a thumbs-up. “Hungry, so I’m taking them out for breakfast for dinner.”

“Gotcha,” Shiro says, nodding.

“They don’t mind being in public now?” Keith asks, before he realizes that maybe he shouldn’t. “Uh, sorry. If that’s not a good question.” He’s just pretty sure that he’d hate that. Going out into the real world so soon after… submitting.

“It’s okay,” Emma assures him. “Normally no, we wouldn’t be doing anything public. But this was a short demonstration. Ade didn’t really sink or anything. They wanted some grounding, but that was all. And we’ll be together in any case, so if there is a drop for some reason, at least I’ll be there.” She smiles at him. “Ade’s been doing this a long time, so they’ve got a good sense of self. And I’m no slouch either.” She flexes her arm to showcase the muscle there.

“Okay,” Keith says. He makes the effort not to mumble or avert his eyes. “Well, thank you, then. The demonstration was really interesting.”

“Thanks for coming! Hopefully we’ll see you around. Probably sooner over later, if Daniel has anything to say about.”

“Hopefully,” Shiro says, squeezing Keith’s shoulder.  _ I’m with you. _

“Yeah,” Keith says. “Hopefully.”

Lauren goes to say goodbye to Ade, so Keith walks over to the matted area again, Shiro by his side.

“Hey guys,” Daniel says, from where he is indeed still curled up in Jacob’s lap. He waves slowly. “What did you think?” He looks kind of sleepy. Sounds it too.

Shiro tilts his head, so Keith answers. “I liked it. Um, a lot. It was really interesting.” He swallows. “I can… see why it’s something you like.”

“Can picture yourself up there, huh?” Daniel asks.

Keith flushes. “I don’t know about being suspended. But um, maybe regular restraints. To start.”

“I could give you some pointers,” Jacob offers. He chuckles. “Regular restraints are pretty cut and dry, but I can at least suggest some good places to get cuffs and stuff. Especially if you want to get into rope. You need to be careful when it comes to rope.”

“Oh.” Keith’s surprised and a little touched, to be honest, at the offer. “Wow, thank you. But I have to uh, you know.” His laugh feels awkward. Self-deprecating. “Find someone to do the tying.”

Jacob’s mouth opens and then closes again. For some reason he looks over at Shiro when he then asks, “you don’t have anyone who might be interested?”

Keith shakes his head, trying not to hunch his shoulders. Admitting that feels like being vulnerable too.

There is a long pause, 

“You don’t?” Daniel asks suddenly and a little too loudly. Keith flinches without meaning to.

“A bit late to the party, friend,” Jacob says, giving Danial a squeeze. “He says he doesn’t, so he doesn’t.”

Daniel frowns. “That… is a shame.” 

Keith shrugs.

Shiro clears his throat, but doesn’t actually say anything. He’s probably struck by Keith’s awkward too.

“It was a good demonstration,” Keith offers again. “And it was, um, nice to meet you all. That’s what I was really looking for. Meeting people.”

“It was really nice to meet you too,” Daniel says. “I can give you my number. For more talking. Later.”

“Mine too,” Jacob says. “For the same. And hey… if you were interested in like, dipping your toes in, I’m available.”

“Wh--really?” It can’t be that easy, can it?

“Sure.” Jacob nods. “You seem cool and I get the vibe that this is something you’re really looking to try. I’d be happy to help.”

“Jacob’s really good,” Daniel says, wiggling around. “Knows his stuff.”

Jacob huffs a laugh. “Thanks, baby. You’re good too.”

Daniel hums, pleased.

It’s far from the first time Keith’s heard use a term of endearment like that for someone else, but it makes him go hot, hearing it now. Thinking about… about maybe someone using it for him. 

Calling him good.

“Okay, yeah,” he hears himself. “That’d… that’d be great. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Jacob says evenly. “Why don’t we exchange info so we can set something up. That cool with you both? Ryou?”

“Sure,” Shiro says. It sounds a little forced, like he’s speaking through his teeth. It’s how he sounds when he’s speaking through a grunt of pain, which usually means a shoulder spasm. Keith makes note to follow-up later, when they’re back at Shiro’s place. If nothing else, Keith can help work out Shiro’s shoulder. “Great.”

Keith smiles, trying not to hope too hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am ready to hear your screams now :3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note: I tagged for sub drop for a reason. See the end for more details if you'd like them.

_ I don’t know what your work schedule is like, but it’ll be best if we plan for a time when you don’t work the next day. Subbing can take a lot out of a person, especially if it’s their first time. Plan to have the day after for resting regardless of how the session goes.  _

That makes sense to Keith. He can imagine feeling at odds with himself after submitting to someone else. Especially a quasi-stranger, no matter how comfortable they made him feel and what care they took. The whole point of getting a dom is to give himself some piece inside his own head, instead of rattling around, but he expects it to be a process. He likes Jacob though. That helps.

_ Okay, so you’re interested in restraints, possibly pain, and not sure about other stuff yet. That’s all great. Totally would suggest starting small and trying to get used to the mind space first. You might not sink the first time, and that’s okay. It can be a process, letting yourself let go. _

Keith appreciates that Jacob mentions that it might be hard. He knows he struggles with himself and vulnerability, because “vulnerable” is just another word for “weak.” Or it was when he was younger, growing up in a world that didn’t want him and was making sure he knew it. He knows better now, or tries to convince himself he does, because he certainly doesn’t think less of anyone else who might need a helping hand or a good cry. But it’s different when it’s you.

_ First session, well… that depends. We could do it at my place, or Lauren would let us use the studio if you wanted a more neutral ground. I’d want to drive you home after, though. No driving yourself, especially not after a first session.  _

It’s nice for Jacob to think about that too, and only makes Keith more aware of how experienced he is. Keith probably could put himself into mission-mode and get himself back to Shiro’s house, but he doesn’t think he would want to. Gritting his teeth and slamming himself back into being an in-control person… it feels like it’d just undo the whole evening. 

_ Now… if Ryou does want to learn anything or take notes or whatever, he’s welcome to be a part of it too, if you’re comfortable with it. I’m cool either way. Just let me know, okay? Otherwise, it all sounds good! I’ll text you my address. _

***

Keith hadn’t exactly planned to stay over a week at Shiro’s, but he considers himself lucky it’s an option. He hadn’t known he’d find Jacob right away, so hadn’t made any other plans to stay on Earth--and certainly not in California.

But it doesn’t matter either way really, because having the time with Shiro is priceless. They’ve both been busy, and Keith will admit, if only to himself, that he’d been trying to give Shiro space. Holding himself away, wanting to stay in Shiro’s orbit but not drag him down. He’s been grateful for all the time Shiro makes for him, all the calls Shiro initiates, and had fallen over himself to make sure he could talk when Shiro was available. It didn’t matter if he was tired sometimes, if he could see Shiro smile and talk about his day.

Keith’s grateful for it now too. Living with Shiro is easy. Easier than living alone. They both know when the other needs or wants space, but mostly Keith doesn’t need to be by himself in the way that he did when he was living on base or during the war. Being with Shiro is like having respite while still getting companionship, because Shiro doesn’t ask anything of him. Or… it’s more like Shiro doesn’t take anything from him. People can drain Keith’s energy. Shiro doesn’t.

It’s nice. So nice, to just be in the same room as someone else, even if it’s quiet and they’re doing their own things. It’s nice to look up and see someone there, someone who smiles when they catch him looking. Like he’s wanted. 

Keith hopes it’s the same for Shiro. That Keith doesn’t  _ take _ from him. Doesn’t drain him. He likes to think he doesn’t. Shiro does a lot for other people, but he’s grown past that specific type of self-sacrifice. Would he absolutely fight with his entire being to uphold peace? Yes, of course, and he’s done it before. But will he sit and let a pompous diplomat or scientist or anyone else waste his time? No, apparently not. 

It kind of makes Keith grin, at how Shiro’s developed a bit of a reputation as a result. But while someone else might be deemed problematic or difficult, Shiro is too well-respected and charismatic for that. Instead he’s “no nonsense” and “impossible to flatter” and “the best there is but will take no shit.”

In the beginning, when it was clear Keith would be staying longer, he’d offered to stay up in the loft if Shiro wanted the downstairs to do his work, but Shiro had waved the thought away. He liked having Keith around. It made him feel like he was working with someone he respected. Keith had snorted and ducked his head, but had been probably a little too pleased.

It meant that he’d been downstairs in the den with Shiro, while Shiro had a meeting and Keith worked on his language studies. Shiro’s voice had become a pleasant hum of background noise until Keith heard a clipped, “I assure you, I’m taking this meeting as serious as anyone else is.”

“Yes, I’m aware of the confidential nature. I do, however, trust my companion implicitly.”

“Well, if you feel that way, I will, of course, withdraw my participation. Have a good day, everyone.”

“What was all that?” Keith had asked, as Shiro cut the connection.

Shiro had rolled his eyes. “Some big wig figured out I wasn’t by myself in the room. Said I wasn’t taking things seriously and that I was jeopardizing the meeting. I wasn’t about to disrespect your privacy by telling them it was  _ you _ in my living room, and pretty much everyone else knows I would never compromise, so I just withdrew. I’m not interested in playing games like that.” He’d thrown Keith a smirk. “And hang on to that thought, because that would be them calling me back.”

“Ah, good afternoon. Was there something else you required?”

Keith had laughed silently, shoulders shaking, and watched him work.

***

Thursday rolls around, and Keith does his best to follow Jacob’s instructions. He makes sure to stay hydrated and to eat properly--neither of which is all that difficult, because Shiro’s been really good about reminding Keith to drink and break for food. Where Keith will forget or get distracted, Shiro never does. Keith half suspects that Shiro has built-in alarms or something.

So, water and food, and he tries to keep himself busy, and he makes sure to pick out comfortable clothes to wear. He’s antsy though, and his palms itch, and it’s hard to settle and not fidget and keep his mind from wandering.

Shiro seems to have something going on too, because all his little tells show up.

“You look almost as nervous as I feel,” Keith says, several minutes into the car ride over Shiro’s giving him a ride to Jacob’s, which Keith didn’t ask for but greatly appreciates. He would have been fine grabbing a paid ride over, but he’s grateful he doesn’t have to spend the drive to his first session with a stranger. And Shiro had looked up Jacob’s area and discovered a few places he was interested in checking out, so he was just going to hang around and then pick Keith up again. It seems like a lot of work just for Keith. Keith didn’t try too hard to talk him out of it though. Shiro’s steadiness helps in a way nothing else really does. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Shiro says. He sounds distracted. “I just–” 

“Yeah?” Keith asks, when Shiro stops. Sometimes Shiro needs prompting. Keith does too. They’ve gotten good at it, with each other.

Shiro sighs, and it’s almost angry. “Nothing important. I… I hope this is a good experience for you.”

“Thanks,” Keith says quietly, staring at his knees.

“I…” Shiro stops and starts a few times before he ends up saying, “I’m glad you were able to trust me. With all this. I was worried you didn’t...”

Keith looks over at him. “Didn’t what?”

“Didn’t want me being so much in your space, anymore,” Shiro says eventually. “After… after everything. I completely support you wanting independence and to do your own thing--you’ve grown into yourself in such a beautiful, fantastic, amazing way, and I… I know I pushed myself on you a little, by always wanting to be in contact and be a part of your life. I did my best to give you the space you wanted and I don’t know if I always succeeded, so I’m… I’m so, so glad you sought me out for something you felt was important to you and your happiness.” 

“Shiro,” Keith whispers.

Shiro licks his lips, takes a breath, and stops.

Keith waits, throat a little clogged, but whatever else Shiro wants to say doesn’t come. Shiro’s eyelashes sweep down as he lowers his gaze and then turns his attention back fully to the road.

“I didn’t mean to push you away,” Keith says in a rush, because it needs to be said. “I didn’t--that’s not what I was doing. Not what I wanted to do.”

The nod he gets from Shiro is enough to know Shiro doesn’t understand.

“I just…” Keith flounders helplessly. “I just didn’t want to drag you down.” It sounds pitiful out loud. He feels himself shrink. “I didn’t mean to push you away,” he repeats, and cringes at how small it sounds.

Shiro takes a breath, harsh, though his nose. Steeling himself for something. Keith leans forward, because whatever it is, it feels heavy. Important. He’s floating without an anchor here, and it hurts how much Shiro hasn’t said. What he hasn’t trusted Keith with, in not telling him that Keith was being cruel.

“I didn’t mean it,” Keith gets out. It’s a sorry excuse for an apology. You can hurt something without meaning it. You can tear someone apart without even trying. Keith knows well enough. He’s got plenty of holes in him. “Shiro–”

“Keith, no, I was--I’m trying to say I’m proud of you.” Shiro’s voice is soft, almost apologetic itself. “And that I’m… I’m honored that I’m being included, here. I don’t blame you for wanting space. I don’t blame you for wanting to find other things and interests and–” a breath “–and people. You deserve that. You deserve everything.”

But that’s not what Keith wanted. That’s never what Keith wanted. He wanted to keep himself in check, to try to hold back his greed. 

The car stops.

“Oh,” Keith realizes. “We’re here.” His nerves have vanished, but so has his tentative excitement. He doesn’t want to leave the car yet. Doesn’t want to leave Shiro’s side yet. He wants to apologize and be reprimanded both, for taking a decision out of Shiro’s hands. Keith knows, he  _ knows _ how tightly Shiro clings to control. How much was taken from him, and how much autonomy he lost. How important it is to Shiro now, that he makes his own bed.

“Keith?” Shiro asks. And it’s not angry or judgemental. Just a question. A check-in.  _ Are things okay? Are we okay? Are you going to get out of the car? _

Keith’s a mess, always has been, but at least that’s the whole point of this exercise. Maybe if he can stop thinking for like five minutes, he’ll be able to find the words he needs to say and put them in the proper order.

“Okay,” Keith says, steeling himself. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours? And then, um, then we can talk. More? If that’s okay.” 

“Of course. Anything.” Shiro hesitates so obviously when he’s debating whether or not he should say something. “Do you want to go to Jacob still? I’m sure you can postpone. If you want.”

Keith’s pretty sure that if he chickens out now, he might not get up the nerve to try again. He’s also pretty sure that if he keeps circle-thinking about how badly he’s wronged Shiro, he’s going to shake to pieces. He needs some quiet. He needs some rest. 

He needs–

“It’s okay,” he hears himself say. “I’m good. We already drove over here, anyway.” 

“Okay,” Shiro says quietly. He’s doubtful, but he’s not going to tell Keith he can’t make his own choices. Not like–

“Thanks for the ride.” His smile is barely an offering, but it’s that or grovel.

He gets out of the car and tries not to feel like he’s stepping into the sea.

***

“Hey Akira,” Jacob says warmly when he lets Keith inside his apartment. “Find the place okay?”

“Oh yeah. GPS hasn’t let me down yet.”

“Great! Here, come on to the living room.”

Keith steps out of his shoes and follows Jacob inside. The apartment is clean but lived-in, with decorations that mostly consist of pictures of people, or photographs of different natural US landmarks. “Are these yours?”

“The pictures? Yeah.” Jacob smiles and shrugs. “I like to travel when I can. It’s sort of a hobby. Getting to see all America’s natural wonders. Plan to take it worldwide someday too.”

“Cool,” Keith says, and doesn’t say that he’s been to fucking space but hasn’t seen the grand canyon. 

He’s in California now, though. And now that he’s thinking about it, he remembers Shiro mentioning the redwoods.

Shiro who looked so unhappy, when Keith said goodbye a few minutes ago.

“I did get to see Pompeii a few years back,” Jacob says, and Keith snaps back to reality. “That was crazy. Amazing that it was still there, you know?”

“Yeah, for sure.”

Jacob chuckles and takes a seat on the couch. “Here, sit down.”

Keith sits. He takes the water bottle that Jacob grabs off the coffee table and hands over, rolling it between his palms.

“Nervous?” Jacob asks. “And I know that’s probably a stupid question.”

“A little, yeah.”

“How are you feeling aside from that?”

_ Worried. Upset. A little like I failed my most important person.  _ “Okay,” Keith hedges.

Jacob nods. “We can start with ‘okay’. Have you been eating and drinking today?”

Keith nods. “And I ate a couple hours before I came over, like you said to.”

“Great.” Jacob smiles at him. “Good job. Thank you.”

It makes something odd flutter inside of Keith’s chest. Shiro does the same thing. Praises Keith for just… taking care of himself. “Um. You’re welcome?”

“The fact that you followed directions and made sure you were ready for tonight means you did something good both for yourself and for me,” Jacob says. “So I’m appreciating that.”

Keith flushes. “Oh. Okay.”

“Now I know we talked and texted a lot before tonight, but I just want to go over a few things, okay?”

“Okay.” The nerves are coming back.

“We’re still using stoplight safewords, but I’m not going to be overbearing and make you check in every two minutes. If you feel like you need to yellow or red me, you do it. Don’t hesitate. It won’t disappoint me or make me think any less of you. This is about you, and being comfortable, and enjoying yourself, okay?”

“Y-yeah.”

“We’re just going to do basic restraint and submission today and see how you feel, just like we talked about. Sound good?”

Keith nods.

Jacob smiles at him. “Great. Okay then, do you want to get started?”

“Yes. Yeah, please.”

“Do you need to use the bathroom first?”

Keith shakes his head. “No, uh, I’m good.”

“Alright, no problem. It’s just that door in the hall. If you need to use it during play, yellow out and let me know, got it?”

“Got it,” Keith says at once. Directions are easier.

“Alright then. From now on, I’m only going to ask you yes or no questions. You answer ‘yes sir’ or ‘no sir’, understand? You don’t have to be loud or clear--words might start getting harder for you. A mumble is fine as long as it’s got the right intention. Otherwise you don’t speak. Understand?”

“Yes sir,” Keith says, again feeling that odd fluttering. It gets worse when Jacob smiles.

“Good.”

Jacob puts a pillow on the ground next to the couch and directs Keith to kneel down on it, so that he’s facing the couch. He holds up a pair of padded cuffs. “Hands behind your back.”

It’s not a question, so Keith doesn't say anything, just does what he’s told. He’s glad that he’s not supposed to talk, because his tongue feels too big inside his mouth.

“Does that feel too tight?” Jacob asks, after he’s cuffed Keith’s hands together.

Keith swallows and tests it. They’re comfortable enough, considering they’re cuffs. Considering they’re tying his hands together. Considering he’s suddenly more vulnerable now.

He suppresses a shiver and shakes his head.

“Akira,” Jacob says, not unkind but firm. “I asked a question.”

It takes Keith a few tries before he can force out a  _ “no sir.”  _

“Good.” Jacob next holds up the blindfold. “Do you want to try this too? I know we talked about it before, but it’s up to you. Yes or no, and I won’t be upset regardless of the answer.”

Keith knows that’s what Jacob says, and he’s even pretty sure he means it, but it still feels like a failure, wanting to say no. He opens his mouth. “Yes, sir.”

“You want to try the blindfold?”

Keith swallows. “Yes sir.”

Jacob smiles at him, and it’s the last thing Keith sees before the blindfold slides in place over his eyes.

“Akira?” a few seconds later. “Are you comfortable?”

Every part of Keith is buzzing. He’s somewhere unfamiliar and his hands are tied and he can’t see. He’s fight or flight but he can’t do either, so freeze is all that’s left. He doesn’t have any words to answer a question he doesn’t understand.

A hand squeezes his shoulder. “Akira, yes or no? Are you comfortable like this?”

The hand is warm and it’s not--it’s not Shiro, one of the only people who touches him like this, touches him at all in a way that isn’t clinical, but it isn’t hurting him. It’s a different sort of questioning. Both more and less invasive than the violent kind.

“Yes sir,” his voice shakes and he doesn’t know why.

The hand squeezes again. “Good. Thank you for telling me.”

There is a shift and the hand falls away and Keith is unmoored, tied and blind and not sure what to do with himself when those things don’t mean danger. A sound catches in his throat and he doesn’t know what to  _ do. _

“I’m right here,” Jacob’s voice floats to him. “Just sat down. Do you feel that?” It’s something warm and solid, pressing against Keith’s side. “That’s my leg. You can lean against it if you want, but you don’t have to.”

It’s not a question. Keith doesn't have to say anything. A relief.

A hand pets his hair. Keith had said he liked having his hair touched, played with. He’s got it in a braid today, not loose, he doesn’t like being in public with it loose. Fingers slide through his bangs.

Keith breathes.

And breathes.

And breathes.

Something clicks and his body, taut and still, slumps just a little. He leans against Jacob’s leg.

Breathes.

“Akira,” a voice says a little while later. “We’re going to stop now. Do you understand?”

_ I’m Akira, _ Keith remembers. He manages a mumbled  _ yessir _ that’s barely an exhale.

“Keep your eyes closed. I’m going to take the blindfold off and I don’t want the light to hurt your eyes.”

Keith obediently closes his eyes. The cloth blindfold slides away. 

“Okay, I’m going to just undo your cuffs now.”

Keith nods, understanding. But not a question so he doesn’t have to speak. He’s grateful for it. His tongue is tired. His whole body is tired.

“Open your eyes when you’re ready,” Jacob says, so Keith opens them at once.

It’s jarring, seeing the world again, and he doesn’t like it. Jacob’s face is kind and open, but it’s the wrong face. “You did really well, Akira. Good job.”

Keith doesn’t feel right, being praised with the wrong name. He didn’t even do anything. He sat still. He has worlds of experience being still. It’s how bullies, monsters, enemies didn’t find you.

“You can talk however you want now,” Jacob says easily. “Here, can you drink some water for me?”

Keith accepts the water bottle even though he isn’t thirsty. He barely did anything, he’s not sure why Jacob wants him to hydrate. Except then he’s drinking and drinking and half the bottle is gone. “Um, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Here, you wanna come up on the couch?”

Keith’s stiff and a little shaky  _ why he literally just sat still _ so Jacob kind of has to help ease him up to sitting next to him. And then Keith’s struck by how much he wants to curl up against someone but how much he also  _ doesn’t  _ want to and it kind of makes him want to cry.

Crying is weakness. Being held is weakness. 

Keith’s going to leave in a few minutes anyway. Why invite touch when it’s only going to get taken away?

“I’d really like it if you ate something,” Jacob says, offering a strawberry protein bar. “Sugar would be good for you.” He huffs a laugh. “I used to know a girl who needed to down a five hour energy after a scene.”

“Was that really a scene?” Keith asks, taking the bar. He’s trying for normal. If nothing else, he knows how to fake it so that no one sees the bruises and asks questions.

“Oh yeah, of course. You had to trust me and listen and follow instructions. That’s the basics for any scene. Just like we talked about.”

“Oh.” Keith takes a bite of the protein bar. “I don’t really feel like I did anything.”

“Hey, you did a lot. That sort of trust takes a lot out of you.”

Keith nods and eats protein bar.

“How do you feel? Hungry? Tired?”

“I’m okay,” Keith says on automatic. “A little tired, I guess,” he adds, not to be suspicious.

Jacob nods. “That’s totally normal. Hopefully you’ll sleep well tonight.”

_ Hopefully. _

“Yeah,” Keith says, and attempts a smile.

Jacob makes no motion to touch him more, which Keith appreciates, because he isn’t sure he wants to be touched. He doesn’t know what it’s doing to the lines of his body, but he feels taut again. It’s maddening, because he feels like he was so  _ close. _ Like he had something and it slipped by.

But maybe he’ll feel better after he sleeps. God, he hopes he sleeps.

***

“I’m sorry I’m not more talkative,” Keith manages while they’re waiting for Shiro to come get him. They’re outside Jacob’s apartment building, because Keith had wanted some fresh air. He feels bad about not talking. Like he’s not doing the right thing.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jacob assures him. “Completely normal. Remember Daniel? He was basically nonverbal for twenty minutes. I honestly didn’t expect you to bounce back as fast as you did, but everyone’s different. And our session was pretty short, since it was your first time. You might not have sunk very deep.”

“Oh, okay.” Then why does it feel like he’s done something wrong?

“Hey,” Jacob says after a few more minutes. “You did good, Akira. Really, really good. I’m really happy to have been able to do this with you, and super flattered that you trusted me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Keith mumbles.

“Are you up for a hug?”

“Y-yeah.”

And the hug is nice. It’s a lot like a Hunk-hug, which is nice and soft-firm and enveloping. Keith holds on for a long time and doesn’t whimper and makes himself pull back. “Thanks.” He means it, too.

Jacob squeezes his shoulder. “Your ride’s here. Go home, have a nice night. Sleep well. And I’ll text you tomorrow to check in, okay?”

“Okay,” Keith says, before turning and indeed there is Shiro’s car and Shiro walking toward them. “Thank you.”

“Hi,” Shiro says, smile soft but strained somehow. “Hey Jacob.”

“Hey,” Jacob says evenly. “You two be good, okay?”

“Okay,” Keith says. “Thank you. Bye.”

“Bye,” Shiro says too, curling his arm around Keith’s shoulders and leading him toward the car. It’s a nice gesture. Keith isn’t sure he needs it, but it’s nice. He gets in and that’s fine too. 

Shiro slides into the driver’s seat and starts the car. “How’d it go?”

“Fine,” Keith says. “I didn’t really do much.”

“No?”

“No, yeah, um, he just--he cuffed my wrists behind my back and put a blindfold on me and had me sit still.”

“And?”

“And that was it,” Keith says irritably. “That was the whole thing.” He curls his arms around himself. “It’s cold. Do you have the AC on high?”

Shiro glances at him. “Sorry about that.” He turns the dial.

“S’okay.”

They drive in silence for a little while.

“Do you feel like it was… good?” Shiro asks eventually. “Something you liked?”

“I don’t know,” Keith says. “I didn’t  _ do _ anything.”

“Were you expecting to have to do something?”

“I don’t know,” Keith says again, feeling petulant.

Shiro nods.

“Maybe I just have to think about it a little,” Keith says, vaguely apologetic. He didn’t mean to snap at Shiro, and he knows too that he still needs to apologize for real, for before. He just also is aware that it’s better to wait until later, after he’s calmed down some.

He’s already feeling kind of antsy, and knowing that he’s done Shiro wrong and can’t make it up to him yet only makes him antsier. And he doesn’t understand why he  _ isn’t _ calm now either. He… he thinks he was, with Jacob. 

He could have moved, but he didn’t. He sat still because Jacob wanted him to. And Jacob thanked him for it. Said he did a good job.

Keith shivers again. He’s not sure if it’s from the memories of kneeling for someone or because he’s still kind of cold.

Shiro turns another dial, and the AC stops, heat kicking up instead. “I brought some water and snacks, if you’re hungry or thirsty. They’re in that bag by your feet.”

Keith hadn’t even noticed it. “Oh. Thanks.” He’s not hungry, but he could drink something he guesses. He pulls out the water bottle and drinks, surprised for the second time that night at how thirsty he is.

When he comes up for air, he asks Shiro if he had been able to do the things he wanted while Keith was at Jacob’s. Keith had only been about an hour at Jacob’s from start to finish. It feels like it was longer. Or shorter. Time is funny like that. He hadn’t had a sense of it, by the end of the session.

Shiro hums. “Oh yeah, it was fine. I mostly just hung out at the coffee shop I found. It was nice. Cute.”

“Oh. Good.” Well, Keith figures, it’s not like Shiro had time for much else. “Maybe we can come back another time and check out the other things you were interested in. If you want.”

Shiro smiles at him, soft again. “I’d like that.”

“Okay.”

The rest of the drive is quiet. Keith is tired, drained even though he didn’t  _ do anything. _ He’s still stuck on that. Turning it over and over in his brain. 

Jacob called him good, but Keith doesn’t… feel like it. He’s jittery, which clearly means he did something wrong. If he had done everything right, he’d be… more satisfied maybe. Something.

“Here we are,” Shiro murmurs, car pulling into his garage. Keith hadn’t even heard it open. 

Keith nods and clambers out of the car. The air is different in the garage. He’s looking forward to going inside the house. Curling up in a pile of blankets maybe. He has to do that, sometimes. Bury himself in blankets and pretend that he’s surrounded by someone who cares. He used to do it with his dad, sometimes, when he wasn’t working a night shift. Used to do it without his dad, when he was. Did it without his dad a whole lot, after.

“Keith?” Shiro touches his shoulder.

It sears, and Keith flinches, eyes widening in horror because that doesn't happen. He doesn't flinch from Shiro. Even after  _ the fight _ Keith fought the instinct with every fiber of his being because he knew how much it would hurt Shiro to see him afraid. 

“Sorry,” he says in a rush, curling his arms around himself. He’s cold. It isn’t for any other reason. “Sorry, you surprised me.”

“It’s okay,” Shiro says slowly. “Here, let’s–” he reaches out and then pulls back, and Keith feels even colder for it. “I was thinking maybe we could wind down? Watch something in your room? Unless you’d rather be alone.”

“Watching something sounds good,” Keith says desperately. He doesn’t want to be alone. He doesn’t want to be alone. He doesn’t want Shiro to leave him alone. He doesn’t want–

The loft. If he can get to the loft, Shiro will watch a movie with him. Before he leaves to go do his own thing before he goes to bed. Before he leaves. But if Keith goes to the loft, Shiro will stay for a little while longer.

“Okay.” Shiro smiles. “Let’s go.”

Keith nods and they head up the stairs and up the stairs. They settle on the couch and Shiro reaches for the remote and still doesn’t touch him. Doesn’t sprawl like he usually does and make them knock knees, or drape his arm over the back of the couch and invite Keith in. Shiro is always so casual about it and so free with his touches. He’s one of the only people Keith can count on who is.

Keith did something wrong and now Shiro won’t touch him.

Keith did something  _ wrong. _

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and his voice shakes, vision blurring, and that’s wrong too, there’s so much, too much he needs to apologize for, why is  _ he _ upset, he has no reason to be upset–

“I’m–” The sob that escapes him is an ugly gasp for air. He can’t breathe--he’s drowning, and is so, so cold. “I’m sorry.”

More sobs tear through him and his body shakes and it’s awful. He’s awful. His cheeks are wet. He tries again. “I’m–” it’s not enough, he’s not  _ enough _ and it chokes him. “Please, I–”

Pitiful and weak and unloveable, and god, so weary from it all. He’d tried to find respite and had fucked up the one good thing in his life. Shiro won’t touch him. 

“I–” his voice breaks. So does he. “I just wanted to be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith experiences sub drop in this chapter, after engaging in a session with a Dom that is not Shiro. There are lots of different ways to drop, but this one for Keith is fairly extreme and also centers around a lot of self-deprecating thinking. However, of note, Jacob, his dom, really didn't do anything wrong. Keith goes into a session after experiencing some emotional turmoil and then doesn't properly communicate his mindset or his needs. He's not at fault for dropping, but Jacob isn't either. Sometimes stuff just happens :( 
> 
> -
> 
> (Um...?? it gets better?? I promise??)
> 
> (S H I R O)
> 
> (YOUR TIME)
> 
> (HAS COME)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a sharp intake of breath, barely audible, and for a moment Keith thinks it’s his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I made you all deal with sub-drop so now... prepare yourselves for the aftermath >:3c

There is a sharp intake of breath, barely audible, and for a moment Keith thinks it’s his. He’s struggling to suck in air as it is, throat closing up, and it makes him start to panic. He’s never felt quite like this before, especially not without cause, and he doesn’t know why and it’s _horrible_

“Keith--” Shiro sounds… Shiro sounds anguished, and it’s enough to make Keith try to uncurl and sit up, try to pay attention, “Keith, I–”

Keith hears a noise that sounds like someone’s in pain, and he can’t tell which one of them makes it. He hears a quiet, furious curse and then, “Can I touch you?”

Keith manages a nod, wishing he could close the gap himself but Shiro didn’t want to touch him before, so Keith has to wait and be good and not move and see what Shiro wants to do. He hopes it isn’t to check his temperature or something else that plays at intimacy but isn’t, because he doesn’t know if he can handle that from Shiro right now. He’d rather not be touched at all.

No, that’s not true. He’ll take whatever Shiro will give him, always but 

But 

He hiccups out another sob as warm, strong arms close around him and pull him closer. Pull him in and in and in, until Keith is--he thinks he’s in Shiro’s lap, and his cheek is pressed to Shiro’s chest, and he’s getting Shiro’s shirt wet because the tears keep on falling.

Shiro starts to rock him in his lap, his own cheek rubbing against the top of Keith’s head. Keith can almost imagine the whisper of lips against his hair. “Oh, Keith, it’s okay. It’s okay, baby. I’m so sorry. You’re so good. You’re _so_ good. Don’t worry, it’ll be okay.” 

It’s nonsense, just nonsensical comforting words and sounds, but Keith clings to Shiro’s body and to his voice, now that he’s allowed to.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay. You’re okay. _We’re_ okay. And we’ll talk when you’re feeling better. I promise. I’m not mad at you. No one’s mad at you. You’re so good, Keith. You did so well.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Keith gasps. “I didn’t mean to push you away, I didn’t–”

The arms tighten, a firm pressure that completely envelops him. Keith’s been hugged before, by Shiro, by others, but he doesn’t think he’s even felt held quite like this before. “I know you didn’t. I know you didn’t, baby. It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m right here. And you’re here too. You’re here, with me. That’s all I want. That’s all I wanted, sweetheart.”

He’s not really able to register all that Shiro’s saying, but Shiro’s voice is calm even if it still sounds pained. Keith doesn’t want Shiro in pain. He struggles to apologize again, starting to shake. Shiver. “Sh-Shiro?”

Shiro squeezes him again. “I’m here. I’m here. What do you need?” It’s perfect except that Keith is freezing when the pressure releases. 

“I’m c-cold.” He says it through chattering teeth. “I-I’m cold, I’m s-sorry–”

Shiro hushes him and then just… stands, scooping Keith up as he goes. Keith clings, pathetic and miserable, burying his face in Shiro’s neck as Shiro walks.

Just a few steps, some motion, and then Keith is being gently deposited on the huge bed Shiro outfitted the loft with, the sheets soft and cool. 

Shiro doesn’t let him go then, which is a relief because it means Keith doesn't have to beg him to stay. Instead he uses his free arm to grab the covers, heavy and warm, and pull them over them both.

Keith immediately curls up into Shiro’s space, and Shiro pulls him in again, continuing to murmur. At some point the tears stop. At some other point, Keith breathes out and gives in to his exhaustion.

***

Keith normally tosses and turns, drifting uneasily until he jolts to awakeness. It’s unusual for him to come to slowly, because that’s a luxury only allowed to people who feel safe. Keith’s never safe. Hasn’t been for almost his entire life. The things that go bump in the night come to you at night. In the wee, waking hours of the morning. Better to be awake than caught unawares.

Feeling groggy is new, and it takes him a few seconds to register that he’s waking up. His head feels kind of fuzzy, clouded, and he isn’t well-rested, exactly. He still feels bone-deep exhaustion. The kind you get when you’ve been wrung out to dry.

He’s thirsty. Dehydrated, probably. Crying will do that to you.

_Crying–_

Keith’s eyes flew open and he gasps, the noise audible in a way it usually isn’t. Keith gets quiet when he’s distressed. Loudness attracts attention.

The room is dark but his eyes adjust quickly. He’s in his--in the bed in the loft. Under the covers still, because they’re something to cling to. He uncurls to find that he’s not alone in the bed. The covers rise and fall with Shiro’s slow, even breathing.

Even as Keith watches, Shiro’s breathing hitches slightly, easily disturbed by something out of the ordinary. Shiro and Keith sleep the same way; like they’re catching some rest amid a battle. 

Keith carefully slips out from under the covers so as not to disturb Shiro. He can hear faint birdsong, which probably means it’s only dark because of the blackout curtains Shiro had installed in the loft. He’s able to make it to the couch and coffee table okay, and snags the water bottle atop the table, guzzling it. 

It’s only once he’s come up for air that he is able to take stock of himself. He’s tired, yeah, but unhurt. Nothing’s wrong. He feels out of sorts and annoyed with himself for it. Nothing happened and… nothing _happened._

He’s embarrassed too, which only makes the crushing disappointment worse. He did everything he was supposed to and it didn’t even work. All it resulted in was him making a fool of himself in front of Shiro. 

_You sobbed in his arms until you passed out._ He’s angry with himself for it. _Idiot._

He wants to take a shower, but he’s worried about being too loud, with Shiro sleeping. 

Maybe he just needs some air.

Keith quietly walks to the balcony and opens the door slow, stepping out into full sun. It’s later than he thought, and it adds another twinge of guilt. How late did he keep Shiro up, that he’s still sleeping? How much trouble was he?

He sits down on the floor of the balcony and just breathes for a little while. He’ll get up in a minute and start breakfast, he decides. He could eat, and Shiro probably could too. It’d be the least Keith could do to start an apology, making Shiro another meal. Shiro’s so far gotten him beat at breakfasts, three to Keith’s two.

After breakfast, maybe Keith should think about packing up and saying goodbye.

Even just thinking it hurts, pulling on a wound that Keith has tried to pretend was long sewn shut. He doesn’t want to leave Shiro’s side after being allowed to be near it again. He doesn’t want to leave the loft, with its high ceilings and pretty view and Shiro’s choice in decoration that perfectly fits Keith’s tastes. He doesn't want to give up the battle for breakfast, and the attempts he and Shiro make to provide the other with the best they can do.

And he also doesn’t… doesn't want to give up the idea that something might work for him. That subspace is a thing he could actually reach. That he could have more moments of drifting but the happy kind, the blissful kind, where he doesn’t have to worry because someone else is making the decisions for him and Keith can trust that person to do things right. 

The door slides open, and the only reason Keith tenses is because he’s ashamed.

“There you are,” Shiro says. His voice is as quiet as Keith feels. “Do you mind if I join you?”

In answer, Keith scoots over some.

Shiro lets out a breath and closes the door behind him, taking a seat next to Keith. Keith was right; the balcony is plenty big enough for two. Even with that though, Shiro sits close. Keith resolutely doesn’t lean in.

“I think we need to talk about last night,” Shiro murmurs, hands on his knees.

Keith had figured as much. He doesn’t want to, but it’s certainly something Shiro is owed. Keith owes Shiro so many apologies. He sometimes feels like the list grows as he does.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I fucked up.”

“No,” Shiro says, and his voice is so stern and laced with command that Keith’s head jerks up to stare. “You didn’t.”

“What?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Shiro says, still firm but softer now. “You didn’t, Keith.”

“I freaked out over nothing–”

“You dropped.” Shiro looks at him. “Sub-drop. You remember what that means?”

“I… no, I…” He knows what sub-drop is. Read about it on his own, and Jacob talked to him about it some too. But that can’t be what… nothing _happened._

“You don’t have to have had an intense scene to drop,” Shiro says, obviously reading Keith’s mind. Or face. “Sometimes it’s just having experienced subbing at all.”

“But I didn’t…”

“I don’t know what you did or didn’t do with Jacob,” Shiro says. “I wasn’t in the room. I wasn’t there with you.” It almost sounds as if he isn’t saying _I wish I had been._

“Nothing happened,” Keith says again. Pleas, maybe.

“I know you keep saying that,” Shiro says gently. “But it really sounds like for you, something did.”

“I just sat there,” Keith protests. He’s not sure why he’s stuck on this but–” And maybe, um, leaned against him for a little while and then it was over. And he gave me something to eat and drink and then we waited for you.”

“Did you talk at all?” Shiro asks. “Did he touch you?”

Keith shrugs, averting his eyes. “We talked a little, but Jacob mostly gave me space. Which was nice of him. I didn’t really want to talk. Or be touched.” It’s not true. He had. He had so much wanted a comfort then, a hand to hold him while he walked the edge of the chasm of vulnerability. But it had been too hard to reach for Jacob’s hand.

Shiro lifts one of his own hands, hesitates, and then fully reaches out, bridging the distance. It’s an offer of comfort, but to Keith it’s a beckoning. He would never turn it down in either case.

He goes, scootching back over, and Shiro’s arm curls around his waist. Pulls him in closer still, until Keith’s head is on Shiro’s shoulder. Some of the lingering tension drains away and Keith sighs it out, allowing his eyes to close. The parts of him that war with being guilty and selfish for wanting Shiro’s time try valianty to rise up against a little voice inside him that suddenly says: _but would he do this if he didn’t want to? Would the Shiro you know really do all this if he didn’t_ want _to?_

“It sounds like you didn’t get what you needed,” Shiro says after a minute as Keith breathes. “When the scene was over.”

He must be talking about aftercare. Which is… maybe something Keith had been looking forward to, kind of, in some way, but also hadn’t needed. “I was fine.”

“Clearly you weren’t,” Shiro snaps. “And if Jacob didn’t–”

Jacob doesn’t deserve any blame, so Keith rushes to say, “I didn’t want him to. I didn’t… I didn’t ask for anything.”

Shiro makes a grumbling sort of sound, and Keith feels Shiro’s cheek brush against his hair. “You’re not supposed to have to ask.”

If Keith shifted just a little, he could wrap his arms around Shiro and hug him tight, and maybe get that pressure in return. It’s tempting. “I wanted space,” he says again. “Jacob was respecting that. I don’t think I would have… reacted well if he’d tried to treat me like he’d treated Daniel at the demonstration.”

The pause is audible. Shiro’s fingers flex on Keith’s waist, but don’t dig in. “Cuddling you mean?”

Like what had happened with Shiro last night. Like what’s happening right now. Keith’s glad Shiro can’t see his face. “Um. Yeah, I guess.”

“I see.”

They sit in silence for a little while. The birds chirp around them. Keith can see the light reflecting off the water in the distance. It’s a beautiful day.

“What about the rest of it?” Shiro asks.

“What about it?”

“The submitting. How did you feel while you did it? Not after, but when he… when he had you kneeling for him. What did you think?”

Keith takes a breath. “I think I could have liked it,” he admits. “Parts of it.”

“Yeah?” Shiro’s voice is low. Rough.

“I don’t know if I could do it again though.” Which hurts to say. Keith had so, _so_ hoped that he’d be able to find what he was searching for.

“Why not?”

Keith flushes. “If I can’t handle the… the aftercare part, then it’s a lost cause.” Wanting something and being able to take it when it’s given to you are vastly different things. 

He has enough self-awareness to _know_ that he wishes he could be good. He never grew out of wanting to be good for someone. To earn their praise. Even harder--to feel like he deserved the praise he earned.

But he also knows that he’s struggled his whole life with being vulnerable. He grew up fiercely not wanting to be anything of the sort. Now he has the opposite problem, in that he can’t allow himself that rest.

Sometimes, he thinks dully, Shiro warm against his side, wanting something isn’t enough.

“You accepted it from me,” Shiro says suddenly. His voice is still rough, but it’s a statement of fact. Keith had. 

“Yeah,” Keith says, instead of: _of course I did. I’m comfortable with you. There’s no one I trust more. You’re_ you. 

“Would you again?”

“What?”

“Would you let me be there for you,” Shiro says. “After a scene. Instead of shrugging things off and pretending you’re fine when you aren’t.”

“I mean I…” Keith tries to consider it. Doing something with Jacob again but being able to come back to Shiro. Knowing he’d get aftercare from the person he cares about most. 

Being given permission to think about it– 

It makes him go hot, how much he wants it. “Maybe,” he hedges.

“No maybes,” Shiro says, and his voice is stern again. “Yes or no? If you did this again, would you let me be there for you?”

Keith resists the urge to push his face into Shiro’s shoulder, to squirm in embarrassment at his own neediness. “Yeah,” he whispers. “If it was you, I think I could.”

“Okay,” Shiro says, almost as if to himself. Then, again, more determined. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’d like to help,” Shiro says. “I’d like to help you in any way I can, Keith.”

“I know,” Keith says at once. “I know, Shiro. And it means... so much to me, it really does.” _I didn’t mean to push you away, I just didn’t want to drag you down._ “I don’t–”

“You’ll listen,” Shiro says, shifting. Pulling away. Keith mourns the loss, but he bites down on the stupid whimper that threatens to escape. 

But Shiro doesn’t go far. He leans back just enough to look Keith in the eye. Keith’s never been one for eye contact, even with Shiro, and he automatically lowers his gaze. Deferring maybe, but also to escape the intensity.

Shiro takes Keith’s hand with his metal one, and warm fingers touch Keith’s chin, tilting his head up. It’s so many little points of contact all at once, and it adds up differently. Not more or less intimate than a nice hug or curling up together, but with a different sort of intention.

Keith swallows, lips parting as Shiro looks at him.

“You’ll listen to me and then make a decision,” Shiro says. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Keith says, unsure. Make a decision about what?

Shiro takes a breath, then lets it out. His hand drops from Keith’s chin, but it only joins his metal one in taking Keith’s hands, cradling them in his own.

“Let it be me,” Shiro says, and Keith doesn't understand until Shiro continues. “Not Jacob. Not anyone else. Let it be me who tries to give you what you’re looking for. And let it be me who is there for you after, to bring you back.”

Keith’s eyes widen. He knows Shiro will do a lot for him. Shiro has already done more for him than Keith could ever hope to repay. Keith fights to keep himself from taking more advantage of it, but this is… more than Keith would have ever hoped for. Would have ever _dreamed._

So much so that he can barely believe it. “You want…?”

“Yes.” Shiro bows his head. “Please.”

 _Please._ It’s that word that strikes Keith deeply. Shiro isn’t… Shiro isn’t simply offering himself up as an option, here.

He’s asking Keith to allow him the opportunity.

And that’s...

“You don’t think I’m a burden,” Keith breathes, and relief floods through him at the realization, because of everything he’s ever strived to be, a burden is the last thing he’d wanted to become.

Shiro’s head comes up. “ _No,_ ” and he looks fierce in that moment, teeth curled back in a snarl as if he’d fight anyone who would dare suggest it. “Never.”

The laugh that bubbles up out of Keith takes him by surprise. It’s barely an exhale, but it’s one of pure joy. Shiro doesn't think Keith is a burden.

“So will you let me?” Shiro asks. 

“Let you what?” Keith asks. Not to be belligerent but because he wants to _hear_ it.

Shiro seems to understand, because his spine straightens and his eyes glint. His voice, when he speaks, is low and confident, all command. “Let me put you on your knees.”

Keith’s breath hitches.

“Let me see how good you can be.”

It makes him gasp with how much he wants it. “I–”

Shiro leans in, and he seems so much bigger, somehow. “Tell me. Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Keith says in a rush. “Yes, please--yes I--please.”

Shiro nods, and then he smiles. There’s a softness to it as it blooms across his face. “You’re going to do so well.”

“I’ll… I’ll try,” Keith promises with all of himself. He wishes he could offer more than that.

“No,” Shiro shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. “No, I know it.” It’s said with quiet finality. “You’re going to be so good for me.”

So many feelings mix around inside of him that Keith doesn’t know what to do with himself in that moment… and then his stomach growls, effectively ruining it. He ducks his head, face flaming, as Shiro chuckles.

“We’re overdue for breakfast, I think. Come down with me?”

“I could make it,” Keith says timidly. He feels like he needs to give Shiro something, for what just happened. For what Shiro’s willing to do for him. Wanting to, even, but still…

“I was thinking French toast,” Shiro says. “I know you like it.”

“Oh,” Keith says, disappointed but trying not to let it show. He does like French toast, but he doesn’t know how to make it. He can’t make it for Shiro.

“Hey.” Keith looks back up. Shiro's smile is different than it was before, but no less soft and private and all for Keith. “Wanna learn how to make French toast?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’ve been going to the beach every day, sometimes more than once a day, since Keith arrived. He kind of gets why Shiro likes it so much, now. There’s something calming about the vastness of it, something inordinately soothing about how incredible the ecosystem is. Space is much bigger, but much emptier too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes we need some time in between to just breathe.

Shiro throws together a quick smoothie with milk and frozen fruit for the both of them before he starts the lesson on French toast. By now Keith’s kind of used to this; Shiro’s big into not waiting to eat if you’re currently hungry, and when Keith had said that he was fine, that he could wait for the toast to be done, Shiro had just looked at him.

_ “I know you can wait. So can I. But we don’t have to. We don’t have to, anymore, Keith.” _

Anyway, the smoothies are bright and fresh and good, and Keith is still plenty happy to eat French toast after, anyway. 

“So you mind taking care of the dishes?” Shiro asks, once they’ve finished.

It’s a bit of a surprise to be asked, but a pleasant one. Keith hops to his feet, happy to have something to do. “Sure, no problem.”

Shiro smiles at him. “Thanks. Is it okay if I grab my computer?”

“Yeah,” Keith says puzzled, already stacking dishes and cutlery. “Why wouldn’t it be? I’m not going to keep you from your  _ job, _ Shiro.”

“I know,” Shiro says chuckling. “But it’s still polite to ask before I do it.”

Keith glances at him over his shoulder. “What would you have done if I’d said no?”

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “Left the computer for later, obviously.”

Keith turns back around quickly then, knowing he’s blushing bright red.

Shiro has a fancy, state-of-the-art dishwasher because he hates doing dishes, but Keith has never minded them. It seems silly to him to stack the morning’s plates and things into the dishwasher for later, so he just starts hand washing. He’s just started cleaning out the blender when Shiro comes back.

“Keith,” Shiro says, a little aghast. “I didn’t mean  _ do _ the dishes.”

“It’s fine,” Keith says over the running water. “I don’t mind.”

“I have a dishwasher!”

“I know.”

“What’s the point of having convenience appliances if you don’t take advantage of them?” Shiro demands.

Keith huffs a laugh. “What else would I be doing with my time? I’m on vacation.” Technically.

“Right. Vacation. Meaning not working.”

“Doing the dishes isn’t working,” Keith says, rolling his eyes. “It’s helping out in a place I’m staying at for free. Besides, you were the one who asked me if I could do them in the first place.”

Shiro mutters something that Keith doesn’t quite catch about  _ specific instructions. _ Keith leaves him to it and finishes washing the blender.

***

“Break time,” Shiro says a while later. Keith blearily looks up from his screen. He’s technically on leave from active duty, but he still has plenty of work to do. He has no idea how it happened, but he’s responsible for a frightening amount of correspondence. If he doesn’t dedicate hours to it each day, it piles up so high it makes him want to hide. There’s no leave from  _ that. _

“What?” Keith asks belatedly, still not quite grounded in reality. He looks guiltily back at his screen. “I should really finish–”

“Break time,” Shiro says again. Decisively. “Let’s stretch our legs.”

Keith doesn’t particularly want to protest, even though he feels like he should. “If you’re sure,” he says instead, putting the ball entirely into Shiro’s court.

“I am.” Shiro smiles. “C’mon, beach?”

They’ve been going to the beach every day, sometimes more than once a day, since Keith arrived. He kind of gets why Shiro likes it so much, now. There’s something calming about the vastness of it, something inordinately soothing about how incredible the ecosystem is. Space is much bigger, but much emptier too.

The sunshine and warm sand and cool water is also much more pleasant.

“Sure,” Keith smiles, standing up. His phone buzzes in his pocket as he does so, and he pulls it out on reflex to check. With how rarely his phone sees use, he’s acutely aware that every buzz might mean an emergency. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Shiro asks.

It’s not an emergency. “It’s Jacob,” Keith says. “He wants to see how I’m doing.”

“Oh,” Shiro says again. His voice has gone harder, expression smoothed out.

“Stop that.” Keith doesn’t want to be upset about last night. He doesn’t want Shiro to be upset either. He knows it wasn’t Jacob’s fault how he reacted, and he likes Jacob. He doesn’t want to think ill of him, especially considering he did do his best to make Keith comfortable and treat him well. 

“Sorry.” Shiro looks away, body rigid.

Keith walks over to him. He doesn’t reach out to touch, but he steps into Shiro’s space with intention. “It’s okay, right? I’m going to be with you.”

He’s pleading a little, hoping to relieve the new tension in the room, but it’s also an offering. Of what, he’s not sure. Himself, maybe. 

It’s Shiro who closes the distance, sighing out a relieved breath as he tucks a wayward strand of hair behind Keith’s ear. “Right. You’ll be with me.”

Even as Shiro says it, he sounds surer. More confident. Standing up a little straighter. Like getting this from Keith gives him something too. The thought makes something warm curl within him.  _ You’re going to be so good for me.  _ “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Shiro lets out another breath, shoulders fully relaxing without his posture dipping. It’s a good look; the picture of easy command. “Do you know what you’re going to say?”

Keith glances back down at his phone. “The truth, I guess.” He didn’t before, and he thinks it’s important to do so now. Everyone he’s talked to and everything he’s consumed has been really clear about honesty being integral. He probably needs the practice.

“That you dropped?”

“Yeah. And that you were there to help take care of it.”  _ Take care of me. _ “And that we talked and we’re going to try some things together.”

“That sounds good,” Shiro says encouragingly.

Keith gives him a slight smile, appreciating the validation. “Cool, okay. Give me just a sec.”

“I’ll go grab the sunscreen,” Shiro says, giving Keith a pointed look. 

Keith rolls his eyes. He grew up half-feral in Arizona. Sunscreen wasn’t something he thought much of. Shiro even has a chapstick with SPF in it. All his sunscreen is, of course, reef safe.

_ I’m doing okay. _ He taps out to Jacob.  _ Last night didn’t go so great after I got back home. Ryou recognized I was dropping and helped me with it. I feel a lot better now, and we talked. We’re going to try some things together now.  _

Jacobs response is almost instant, as though he was waiting for Keith to reply.  _ I’m sorry to hear you dropped, but I’m glad Ryou was there for you, especially since you didn’t contact me. _

Keith winces, but before he can reply, another message from Jacob comes in.  _ I’m also glad you two talked. Maybe some things needed to be said? It’s awesome you’ll be experimenting together. I’m guessing that means you won’t be wanting another session with me, which is totally cool. Let Ryou know that he can always ask if he has questions or wants tips. Same with you. _

_ Thanks, _ Keith writes out, touched again by how welcoming Jacob is.  _ I appreciate it. _

_ Of course. And don’t be a stranger! We have get-togethers all the time, and a lot of us hang out separately too. Bet Daniel’d love to rope you into an aerial class. _

The pun is worthy of Shiro, and Keith snickers at it. He really does think Shiro and Jacob would get along well. Maybe they’ll have a chance to now. If Shiro wants to.

_ I’m showing Ryou that pun. And thanks, really. For yesterday and in general. I’ll keep in touch. _

_ No problem :) Hope to see you around soon. _

It’s with a much lighter heart that Keith accepts the sunscreen from Shiro.

***

Splashing around in the waves has the last of Keith’s reservations and trepidations floating away with the foam. He and Shiro are okay. Keith could maybe be on his way to being okay. It’s a process.

Shiro presents him with another piece of seaglass as they make their dripping way back up the beach to Shiro’s house. It’s a large, cobalt blue piece, with a pretty curve to it; a jagged edge worn smooth. Keith turns it this way and that, admiring it as the light makes it shine. It fits neatly in his palm, cool and smooth and soothing. 

He’s building up quite the collection, all lined up on the little shelf underneath the window above his bed in the loft. Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he’ll hold the pieces and rub them with his thumb, or run his fingers over the rounded edges.

Shiro’s back deck is all stained wood, open to the air but closed in with screens. It’s perfect for standing outside but still keeping the bugs at bay, Or for times like now, where Keith and Shiro drip onto the slats as they dry off with the sun-warmed towels Shiro had waiting for them.

It’s well into late afternoon by the time they’re back inside, and they both proceed to assemble and devour sandwiches. Shiro adds more deli meats to his growing grocery list and shushes Keith before he can feel guilty about adding to Shiro’s expenses.

“You know I can afford it,” he says, raising an eyebrow. 

Keith shifts awkwardly. “Still. I’m eating too. You shouldn’t be paying for everything.”

Shiro nods. It’s not a dismissal of Keith’s feelings--more an acknowledgement that Keith has them. Shiro’s always been good at that. He doesn’t tell Keith he’s silly for worrying, even if Shiro himself doesn’t feel there’s a need to worry. 

Years ago, when Keith was a cadet, Shiro got into the habit of slipping him energy bars. He always gave Keith two at a time; one for Keith to devour, and one for Keith to squirrel away in his room. “Okay, well, I was going to order us pizza tonight and go grocery shopping tomorrow. You want to pay for the pizza?”

“Yeah, sure,” Keith says, perking up. “I haven’t had pizza since the last time I was on Earth.”

“Then we definitely need to order it,” Shiro laughs. “I’m sorry I’ve been denying you. I would have gotten some sooner. There’s a really good place not too far from here. They don’t deliver, but it’s worth the drive to pick it up.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want. Sure.”

“Great. And grocery shopping tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Keith says, trying not to sound too eager. “Can I come?”

Shiro smiles. “If you want to.”

Keith does, because it’s more time with Shiro, and even if they’re literally in the same house right now and seeing each other every day, it’s a different activity. He used to find it stressful, having to worry so much about what he could and couldn’t afford, but things are different now. Better, and there’s something so nice about the mundanity of walking around a grocery store and picking stuff out. He hasn’t yet completely grown out of worrying about prices, but he’s gotten better at reminding himself that not only is he capable of buying the more expensive thing now, but he’s allowed to do so. Because it’s true; brand name cheerios just taste better than store brand.

He’s looking forward to seeing how Shiro shops. What he gravitates towards, and whether or not he likes to take his time and meander or if he goes in with a plan. They’re little things, but Keith likes learning the little things. He likes that he’s getting a  _ chance  _ to learn the little things.

He can’t do any of that up in space, by himself.

***

“I was thinking,” Shiro starts, after he’s called in their pizza order later that evening. “About our morning conversation.”

It takes a second, but then Keith tries, “You mean about the subbing?”

“Yeah. Or, well, more specifically about us trying something together.”

“Okay.” Keith waits.

“Well,” Shiro says, “I wanted to know when you’d like to try something. And what you’d like to try.”

“Oh.” Keith had been actively working not to think about it, because he hadn’t wanted to accidentally push for something Shiro wanted to maybe ease into or take his time with. But now that Shiro’s bringing it up… “I mean, whenever. And whatever. I trust you.”

Shiro smiles at him then, so pleased and… there’s some pride there, too, and it strikes Keith then that he did that. He made Shiro happy. 

It licks through him, warm electricity that sparks to his fingertips.

“Thank you,” Shiro says. “For trusting me. I really… appreciate that you do. But it shouldn’t just be me, right? It’s a joint effort. I want to hear from you what you want to try.”

Shiro takes a seat on the long couch, sprawling over it, and when Keith hesitates on where to sit, Shiro holds out an arm and beckons. Keith doesn't need to be invited twice, and he clambers over probably too eagerly, guided down onto the couch instead of perching awkwardly at the edge to give Shiro room..

Shiro curls an arm around him and pulls him in close, holding Keith against his chest. Keith has to suppress a shiver, held and enveloped and grounded like that. He can hear Shiro’s heartbeat.

“Okay?” Shiro asks quietly.

Keith nods, cheek rubbing against Shiro’s t-shirt. He doesn’t trust his voice in that moment, happiness bubbling too close to the surface.

“Okay,” Shiro says. His breath stirs Keith’s hair. “I think it’d be good to try something sooner, just to see if it works and to cut the anticipation.”

Keith nods again. That makes sense. “Tonight?” He asks hopefully. 

“If you want,” Shiro says after a moment. “If you don’t think it’s too soon.”  _ After dropping,  _ he doesn’t say, but Keith understands.

“I want to,” Keith says stubbornly. “It’ll be different with you.”

There’s an audible inhale as Shiro’s heartbeat kicks up just a little. “Okay, then. Tonight.”

This time Keith does shiver, but Shiro only tightens his arms around Keith’s back.  _ Tonight. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STAY TUNED??


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tonight."

They watch a movie after dinner, letting the both of them digest. Shiro had held out his hand to Keith again, so they’d ended up curled together on the couch instead of at opposite ends of it. Keith’s appreciating all the additional contact. Basking in it even, and he’s not sure why Shiro has suddenly privileged him with all this extra touch, but he’ll take it all for as long as it’s offered.

He doesn’t really concentrate much on the movie, instead enjoying just being. In Shiro’s presence, in his space, in his arms. His mind is finally quieter, and he hasn’t even done anything real with Shiro yet. He has high hopes for subbing for Shiro just based on this alone.

He does his best not to think of anything past that. It’s easier, at least, staying in the moment like this. Being held.

Keith sits up at attention when Shiro shifts to turn off the screen, but Shiro beckons him back.

“Want to establish some things first,” Shiro says.

The rules, Keith figures. Like Jacob had. “Okay.”

“I don’t need you to call me  _ sir,” _ Shiro says, lacing his fingers with Keith’s own. “Maybe later, but right now I’d rather you didn’t. Just Shiro is fine. Or no honorific at all.”

“Okay,” Keith says. That’s easy enough. “You don’t want me to?”

Shiro’s lips twist in a half-smile. “Not right now.”

And that’s enough for Keith. “Okay. Anything else?”

Shiro seems to consider him. “Will it be okay with you if I also have you only speak when spoken to?”

_ Will it remind you of Jacob?  _ “That’s fine.” In some ways, not being allowed to talk is a relief. It feels like there’s less pressure. Certainly less pressure to say the wrong thing, because there isn’t as much to say.

Shiro nods. “Alright. Same rule, in that case. And same color systems safewords too. Let’s not complicate things.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“No questions,” Shiro says.

Keith almost asks,  _ what? _ before catching himself. “Oh.”

Shiro’s smile is still small then, but fond. “You can ask them after, if you want to. Okay? But no questions during the scene.” 

“Alright,” Keith says dutifully. 

“Good boy,” Shiro says, still said with a smile, and Keith gasps, almost pulling away from him.

Immediately Shiro looks concerned. “No?”

Keith shakes his head, then realizes that could be misconstrued. “No. I mean yes. I mean, it’s fine.”

“Fine?” Shiro asks, eyes narrowing.

Keith flushes. “Good,” he mumbles. “I mean it--it was good.”

“Good to know,” Shiro says. His expression is considering now. “Thank you for telling me.”

Keith swallows. “You’re welcome.”

“Are you okay for us to start, then?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

“Good.” Another smile, and then Shiro is standing up, pulling Keith to his feet. “Come on, follow me.”

It’s not really something that requires an answer, and Shiro doesn’t want to be called  _ sir, _ so instead of replying, Keith just follows. Shiro keeps their fingers laced together, tugging Keith after him as they head to the kitchen.

Once there, Shiro does let go of Keith, with a firm, “wait here,” and heads to the pantry to grab a bag. He refills a couple of water bottles and puts them in the bag, then adds some granola bars and fruit. Then he comes back to Keith and takes his hand again. “Let’s go.”

Keith follows.

Shiro leads him through the house, up the stairs, and… up the stairs again, to the loft. Keith lets out a questioning noise before he catches himself, and Shiro gives him a sharp look.

“No questions.”

Keith bites his lip and ducks his head, ashamed at messing up so early on. “I’m sorry.”

“You won’t do it again,” Shiro says, easily doling out forgiveness and expectation as one. “You’re going to be so good for me, won’t you?”

The next noise Keith lets out is an embarrassingly needy one, but Shiro just smiles. “I know,” he says, letting go of Keith’s hand to stroke his cheek. “Such a good boy for me, Keith.”

He’s not sure what comes over him, but the instinct to nuzzle into Shiro’s palm is such a strong one that Keith just… does it. He’s not supposed to talk and isn’t allowed to ask questions. All he has is his body, and he wants to use it to  _ show  _ that he can be good. That he can be just like Shiro wants.

There’s a sharp intake of breath as he rubs his cheek against Shiro’s palm, but when he opens his eyes in a slow blink, Shiro is just watching him, lips curled up just a little.

“Good,” he says again. He holds out the bag he assembled in the kitchen. “Put this on your coffee table, but take out the green water bottle and bring it back to me. Okay?”

Keith nods and happily takes the bag. It’s a simple task, but simple tasks can often be the best ones. They’re harder for him to get wrong, so that he knows when he’s getting things right.

It takes him only a few seconds to return with the green water bottle, but by the time he does, Shiro has taken off his shirt and has turned down the covers on Keith’s bed.

This time Keith catches himself before he asks a question, but he does furrow his brow, head tilting. He doesn’t understand. Does Shiro want to go to sleep? He casts a confused glance out the window. It’s dark, yes, and he supposes it’s late enough. But…

Shiro chuckles. “I can hear you thinking.”

Chastened, Keith ducks his head again.

“Hey now,” Shiro says softly, cupping a hand underneath Keith’s chin. “Stop that. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re allowed to think. I’m just going to try to help you stop, for a little while. Okay?”

Keith takes a breath. “Okay,” he whispers. He doesn’t want to be louder.

“Good,” and the praise for something so simple still makes him want to bask. “Now,” Shiro says, “You know I have PT for my back and shoulders, yeah?”

Keith nods. Shiro has three muscle-manipulation sessions a week. 

“Well, Charlotte’s great, but I can always use some more work.”

Keith perks up. He’s had plenty of practice in massage since the Space Whale. He and Krolia did them on each other often, to ease the soreness in their bodies. Does Shiro want him to–?

“Yeah?” Shiro asks. “You think you could work on me a little?”

Keith nods eagerly, and vocalizes just to be sure. “Yeah, I--yes. Please.”

Shiro smiles at him. “Okay. All yours. I’ll tell you if I want you to do something different.”

“Okay,” Keith says at once.

“Would you prefer I lie down, or sit up?”

Keith considers this. “Lying down would be better, I think.” 

Shiro nods and does just that.

After a hesitation,  _ don’t speak unless you’re spoken too _ , Keith tries, “It would be better if you were in the middle of the bed. Instead of over on one side.” He hopes it’s okay to say so. It’s not a request at least, even if he’s speaking out of turn, and it would make it easier for Keith to move around Shiro’s body. The bed is big enough.

Shiro shoots him a smile and shifts over, grabbing one of Keith’s pillows to add some further support to his chest. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Great.” Shiro pillows his head in his arms. “Go ahead.”

And Keith… all he has to do is follow orders. 

He clambers up onto the bed, glad that Shiro decided to go for a big bed, even if Keith doesn’t really need that much space. It’s wide enough for even someone of Shiro’s size and breadth to lie down in the middle and still give Keith room to work. It’s not the best for his posture, kneeling next to Shiro to carefully feel out the muscles of his back, but it’s not the worst either, as long as Keith’s aware of his core.

He starts with careful presses along Shiro’s shoulders and upper back, noting how the worst of the knots center along his right side, underneath his shoulder blade, which isn’t at all a surprise. He takes his time feeling everything out, then stops, chewing on his lip. He could do a better job if…

He’s not supposed to ask questions, not supposed to talk at all, so the best Keith can do is move quickly to show Shiro what he wants. 

Sliding off the bed, Keith hurries over to his pack. It’s largely empty now, Keith succumbing to the desire to put his things in drawers. He’s spent a large part of his life living out of duffle bags, especially his younger years. Why bother unpacking when you knew you’d be kicked to the curb sooner over later? 

Keith hadn’t wanted to feel any part of that bitterness while he was staying with Shiro. So he’d unpacked. He can always repack, when he leaves.

Which he doesn’t want to think about right now, so instead he grabs the medical balm he takes with him everywhere. It hadn’t been unpacked, because he hadn’t needed to use it. But it would be good for what Shiro wants him to do, so he trots back to the bed and holds it up for Shiro’s inspection.

“Smart,” Shiro says. “I should have remembered to grab something myself. Good job, thinking of it.”

Keith makes a pleased noise and climbs back onto the bed to properly get started.

The medical balm has warming properties in it, so all Keith has to do is click off the cap to get to work. He starts slowly, working around the worst of the knots like Krolia taught him to, coaxing them to loosen.

Shiro’s back isn’t a  _ delight _ , but it’s not nearly as bad as Keith had honestly expected. The PT is clearly helping, and Keith is pleased to see this obvious positive. He’s noticed that Shiro has been moving less stiffly, even just from when they last saw each other, but Keith loves knowing intrinsically that Shiro truly is in less pain nowadays. It makes him happy.

And it’s  _ easy. _ Just being able to focus single-mindedly on a task, without worry about meeting a deadline or making the right decision or explaining himself. Keith can trust Shiro to tell him if Keith’s doing something wrong. The gentle correction from earlier was all Keith needed to know he can count on Shiro to guide him as he needs to be guided, when they’re like this.

He sinks into the methodical motions of working on Shiro’s body, and soaks up the praise that Shiro occasionally sighs out. A contentedness falls over him, being able to just properly follow his simple directions, knowing that he’s doing a good job at easing Shiro’s discomfort.

Keith isn’t sure how much time they pass like that, but he does eventually have to take a break to flex his fingers and sit up straight again, giving his own back a rest.

Shiro hums and turns to look up at him. His eyes are heavy lidded and he looks totally at ease.

Keith did that. Keith  _ did _ that. He suddenly feels himself flushing and he isn’t sure why.

“That’s enough for now,” Shiro murmurs. “Give me a second to stretch out. Sit however you’re comfortable.”

Keith nods and tucks his legs underneath him. He’s happy he doesn’t have to speak, that Shiro hasn’t given him a question to answer, because words feel like they would be such an effort right now. Making his mouth make sounds can be so tiring. And he’s tired now, a little, drifty a little, but it’s more sleepy than tired. Like he’s close to rest, not close to exhaustion.

He watches as Shiro sits up, going slowly as his muscles shift and blood moves. He’s beautiful as always, but the ease in which he rolls his shoulders is breath-taking. Keith _did_ _that._ He helped make Shiro feel good.

“You look happy,” Shiro says softly, voice conversational and not at all questioning. He looks so pleased at getting to say those words, eyes shining with pride, and all Keith can do is beam up at him. He did a good job. He made Shiro happy.

Shiro’s back cracks in a few different places as he adjusts and settles. He takes a few gulps from the water bottle, and then he scoots back to rest against the headboard, holding out his arms. “Come here.” Not a request; a direction. 

Keith goes, settling in Shiro’s lap when Shiro makes it obvious that’s where he wants him, and Shiro wraps both his arms around Keith and pulls him in close, flush against his bare chest. Keith closes his eyes and tucks up into Shiro’s body, a happy little sound bubbling up out of him.

There’s a whispered curse, so quiet Keith only just registers it, but it sounds awed instead of angry, and anyway, Shiro would tell Keith if he’d done something wrong. As it stands, Shiro moves one of his hands just enough that it can reach Keith’s nape, and he gently kneads at the skin there, fingers occasionally curling through the strand of Keith’s hair that’s come loose from his braid.

Keith sighs into it all, relishing every point of touch. He turns to nose at Shiro’s neck, inhaling his clean scent, happily surrounded. There’s another noise then, a soft, low rumble, but Keith’s too blissed out to care that it seems to be coming from him. It’s not words. It’s too easy to be words, too simple to be words, so it doesn’t matter.

“Oh…” it’s quiet, barely a breath, but it’s tinged with reverence. “Oh, you’re so good. You’re so good, Keith.”

Keith nuzzles impossibly closer and breathes.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Shiro shifts. “Hey, can you open your eyes for me sweetheart?”

It’s an effort, but Keith does what he’s told.

“Hey there.” Shiro smiles at him. Keith blinks at him slowly, and Shiro lets out a huff of a chuckle. He holds up the water bottle. “I want you to drink something.”

Keith obediently takes the water bottle, surprised at how much his body wants to drink. He finishes almost the entire thing, and only stops because he wants to offer Shiro what’s left.

“Thank you,” Shiro says, and it’s the best feeling in the world, watching him drink the rest of the water. “I’m going to get some stuff. Can you stay here for me?”

Keith nods and shuffles off of Shiro’s lap. He’s instantly colder, but Shiro reaches for the blankets before Keith even can, pulling them up and tucking them around his lap.

“Good boy,” Shiro says warmly. “Wait just a sec.”

It’s with hazy vision that Keith watches Shiro grab up his shirt and pull it on, then fetch the bag from the coffee table. Shiro offers the second water bottle to Keith, who drinks a few more mouthfuls, and he takes a bite out of the granola bar that Shiro hands him next.

Shiro praises him and calls him good again for finishing the granola bar and eating a handful of grapes and drinking some more water. He sets the bag on the floor next to the bed and pulls Keith in close for another hug.

“I want you to sleep,” Shiro says, “but I don’t want you to wake up alone. Is it okay if I spend the night?”

Keith nods. Of course it is. It always is.

Shiro smiles at him. “Okay. Let’s get comfortable.”

It’s easy enough. Keith slides down until he’s on his back, and Shiro joins him and it’s perfect.

“If you wake up and you need me,” Shiro murmurs, “you wake me up. Got it? That’s an order.”

Keith hums out a sleepy assent. 

“Good,” comes Shiro’s voice from the dark. Keith’s eyes have drifted closed again. A hand passes over his hair. “Sleep well, Keith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on twitter if you'd like to say hi! @justsayins


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